


Mr Congeniality

by stupidnephilimlove



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/M, FBI Agent Alec Lightwood, M/M, Miss Congeniality AU, Pageant Consultant Magnus Bane, Smut, mentions of anti-lgbtq+ issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidnephilimlove/pseuds/stupidnephilimlove
Summary: When a terrorist threatens to bomb the Mr United States pageant, FBI Special Agent Alexander Lightwood is chosen to go undercover. His partner, Jace Herondale, thinks he's doing Alec a favour by choosing him, but Alec's disgruntled. He considers the idea of a male beauty pageant - hell, any pageant - degrading.As he progresses through the rounds, Alec struggles to fight a growing attraction to pageant consultant Magnus Bane, forms unlikely friendships with contestants, and learns that Mr United States is much more than just a beauty pageant.But with limited time, can he uncover the person behind the threat before it's too late?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks and hugs to my amazing beta [la_muerta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_muerta/pseuds/la_muerta). 
> 
> Cover art by the wonderful [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/pseuds/Pameluke) and [Podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604833/chapters/36311397) created by the lovely [Accal1a](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a).
> 
> Written for the [Shadowhunters Hiatus Big Bang](https://shhiatusbang.tumblr.com/).

Alec shifts his weight on the unforgiving wood of the bench as he surveils the park. He finds himself stuck in awkward positions for long hours often enough, but  _this_ has got to be the most uncomfortable bench in the world. Alec pulls his cap low across his face. Eyes hidden, he glances over the top of his book at the two people standing on the path several feet in front of him.

Annamarie Highsmith isn’t the type of person one expects to find on the FBI’s most wanted list, but one thing Alec’s learnt in the past four years of working for the FBI is that corruption often hides in plain sight. The blonde pushes her sunglasses onto the top of her head. She folds her arms, in what appears to be a defensive gesture, but so far Alec’s found her to be cool, calm, and collected. She must have nerves of steel.

The man across from her, though - Malachi Dieudonné - now he’s the kind of guy people expect to find right at the top of the most wanted list. He towers over Annamarie’s dainty frame, but she just stares him down. That’s what impresses Alec the most, that she’s looking into the cold eyes of a killer without flinching. Alec’s encountered a lot of criminals on the job, but a rap sheet like Malachi’s is enough to shock even Alec. It makes him wonder just what Annamarie’s been up to that the FBI doesn’t yet know about. He’d bet a year’s salary that it’s more than selling a few state secrets.

“I’ve got a clear line of sight,” Alec says, voice low, hoping the earpiece will pick him up. He tries to keep his speech succinct - crazy man rambling to himself isn’t really the cover he’s going for. He’s trying to blend in, after all, just another man in Bryant Park, whiling away the time with a book.

Alec adjusts his sunglasses and watches as Annamarie hands an A4 envelope to Malachi. _Finally_. He’s relieved this thing is nearly over; he’s been sitting in the midday sun for over two hours. Still, as Alec looks past the two suspects to the man leaning against the bin behind them, he knows he got the better deal. He could be Jace right now.

Jace’s clothes are tattered, his hair’s matted with god knows what, and Alec’s certain he’ll smell exactly how he looks - horrendous. Jace likes to go real method with his cover, which reminds Alec that he should catch a lift with someone else or take the subway home. There’s nothing like being stuck in a vehicle in the heat of the summer with someone whose clothes smell like something that might crawl away.  

Alec draws his gaze from Jace, and asks, “Visual on the first exchange?”

He assesses the perimeter as he waits for confirmation. He doesn’t like it. It’s too open. There are too many people. Too many kids, he thinks, as one goes running along the path in front of him. There are too many chances for this to all go wrong.

Seated on a picnic blanket spread out on the grass to Alec’s right are Aldertree and Fairchild, pretending to laugh at something, but he can tell they’re focused on the suspects. Starkweather is over to Alec’s left, a bike propped against a tree as he tries to fix a punctured tire.

“First exchange confirmed,” comes Assistant Director Herondale’s voice in his ear. “Hold for completion.”

Alec pulls his eyes back to the exchange, but there’s a feeling in his gut, an unease that he can’t quite explain. Despite it, he complies with his orders and waits.

Malachi’s opened the envelope. He pulls a stack of papers halfway out and flicks through them. Words are exchanged before he nods and reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a smaller, bulging envelope. There’s the money.

“Transaction complete,” Alec says as Annamarie does a quick count.

Alec’s words are followed by static, and he has to hold himself back and wait for the command for the team to move in. The thirty seconds it takes before he hears Herondale’s voice again feel like a lifetime.

“Confirmed. Echo team move in.”

He should be relieved. It’s about to all be over, but that niggling feeling that something is off is escalating and nothing good happens when Alec disregards his instincts. Then he sees the moment it all starts to fall apart. A ball bounces past Starkweather - he turns to look at it, taking his eyes off the perimeter, and a child rushes past him to chase after the ball, running straight at the suspects.

“There’s a child,” Alec says and he stands, a hand on the weapon tucked into the waistband of his trousers at the small of his back. “Permission to intercept?”

“Hold, Lightwood,” Herondale tells him, “don’t blow your cover. Echo team have it under control.”

It really isn’t anywhere  _close_ to under control. Alec’s eyes lock with Malachi and he knows, instantly, he’s made. _Fuck_. Malachi is reaching for a weapon. A weapon he shouldn’t have. Starkweather confirmed neither of the suspects were carrying upon entering the park. Alec can’t allow a firefight to break out in the middle of the park in broad daylight.

“I’m made,” Alec says, and he makes a split second decision. Alec draws his gun, ready to take a shot, but Malachi grabs Annamarie, pulling her in front of himself as a shield. Fuck. Alec’s got no shot.

Alec moves quickly, body low, and he tackles the child to the floor. Gunshots ring out, and Alec covers the child with his body, shielding him.

Screams fill the air, and Alec can hear footsteps pounding on the concrete pathway as people scramble to get out of the way. He turns his head to see Annamarie elbow Malachi and drop to the floor. He counts the shots, one, two, three, four, in quick succession, but from opposite directions, and one hits Malachi in the chest. Malachi crumples to the floor.

The child Alec’s sheltering is crying and struggling under him, but Alec refuses to move until he knows it’s safe. Alec waits to make sure Malachi isn’t getting back up and it sounds like footsteps are running closer rather than away. He pushes back onto his haunches, pulling the kid into a sitting position as he does.

“You okay?” Alec asks, giving the child a once over. He brushes a stray leaf from the child’s hair. The boy looks shaken, tears staining his cheeks, but he nods.

“Charlie! Oh, god, Charlie!” a woman’s voice calls out, and the child quickly turns and rushes towards her.

Starkweather, who was holding her back, trying to set up some form of perimeter, allows her through and she runs across the grass to her child.

“Thank you. I can’t thank you enough,” she tells Alec as she embraces her son.

“No thanks necessary, Ma'am.”

Alec catches Starkweather’s eye and realises something is drastically wrong. He signals for Starkweather to take over and his fingers go to his ear. Goddammit, must’ve lost his earpiece in the tackle. He’s gonna get shit for that. There’s a crowd of people over by the picnic blanket Aldertree and Fairchild were sitting on, and then he hears someone yell, “EMTs are one minute out.”

Alec’s stomach drops out. He turns to Starkweather. “One of ours?” he asks.

Starkweather nods. “Aldertree. Took a hit for Fairchild from what I can tell.”

Alec anxiously turns back to the group of officers surrounding the blanket, but he can’t see what’s happening through the crowd.

It’s chaos as they try to keep the public back. Alec watches as the EMTs work on Aldertree, and he can’t help but blame himself. Assistant Director Herondale talks to one of the medical staff as Aldertree is wheeled to the ambulance, alive but in critical condition. She passes by Alec, and he’s thankful looks can’t kill; there’s no doubt that one would have been a killing blow.

Alec smells Jace before he sees him. They stand silently for a few minutes as the ambulance drives away.

“You made a choice,” Jace tells Alec. Like Alec doesn’t already know that. He’s not sure he wants Jace’s idea of a pick-me-up right now. “It was probably the wrong choice,” Jace adds.

Alec likes Jace. He does, but sometimes he’s a fucking insensitive prick.

“You smell like garbage,” Alec says and walks away.

 

-

 

It feels good to slam the door when Alec walks into his apartment. There’s something satisfying about the loud bang that echoes around the room as the wood settles back into the jamb. Alec slings his coat onto a hook, toes his shoes off and kicks them to the side before making his way into the living area.

He moves through the apartment by rote, crossing to the TV unit. He crouches and opens the bottom cupboard, presses the code - Isabelle’s birthday, using a cypher, of course - into the keypad. The door of the safe clicks open.

Alec pulls the chain his badge is attached to over his head and places it inside. He hesitates when he unclips his gun, can hear the shot from earlier ring out in the quiet apartment. Then he hears it again. Not a gunshot at all. Just Isabelle in the kitchen. Alec thinks he’d rather take his chances with a bullet than have to contend with Izzy’s cooking.

“Goddamn fucking infernal device,” Isabelle’s frustrated voice rings out. There’s a slam of the microwave door, then a few pings. Well, at least she’s not trying to use the stove, Alec thinks. That’s progress.

He’s not in the mood for an argument on how they agreed she wouldn’t cook anymore. Instead, he locks the safe and retreats to their makeshift gym. Efficiently, Alec strips to his boxers, then grabs a pair of sweats. He bypasses the sparring dummy. Physical violence isn’t going to help him deal with his frustration right now, it’s likely to only add to it.

Alec starts with a warm-up. Then he pushes himself through a hundred situps, a hundred pushups. He’s on his second rep of chin ups when he finally allows himself to process the day. Alec presses his head to the cool metal of the bar and squeezes his eyes shut. _Fuck._ Aldertree has a wife, a baby on the way, and Alec fucked up. If anyone should’ve taken that bullet it should have been him. He was trying to save a life, he hadn’t meant for anyone else to get hurt in the process.

It doesn’t matter to Alec that Malachi would probably have made them even if Alec hadn’t reached for his weapon. It doesn’t matter that none of them were prepared for Malachi to pull out a semi-automatic and start shooting up the place. It doesn’t matter that there’s a high probability Aldertree would have been caught in the crossfire. Alec made a mistake, and he still doesn’t know if it’s going to cost a colleague, a man he respects, his life.

“Bad day?” Isabelle asks from the doorway.

Alec grunts, reaches for the bar, and pushes past the strain in his muscles as he lifts his body from the ground. He half hopes she’ll just go away. She doesn’t.

“Wanna talk about it?” she prods.

“You know I can’t.” He could, if he really wanted to. He could describe the incident in such a way that he wouldn’t be violating any section of his NDA, but he can’t do that to her. He knew what he was getting into. He knew the harsh realities of the job, but Isabelle never signed up for this. She’s one area of his life that the horror has never touched, and while he’s standing between it, it never will.

“We both know that’s a lie, but suit yourself. The microwave’s broken by the way.”

“How?”

“Apparently forks aren’t microwavable. Who knew?” Isabelle turns to leave. “I’m ordering takeout.”

His sister is incredible, really, she is. She got the brains  _and_ the beauty in the family. But when it comes to cooking, he’s never met anyone quite as hopeless.

 

-

 

The tyres squeal as they take the corner too fast. An irate taxi driver beeps his horn and hurls abuse their way. Alec gives an apologetic smile, while the siren blares out into the busy street and they whiz by the driver. Jace turns the wheel, quick and efficient, weaving through the traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge. Anyone would think they’re in the middle of a car chase.

They’re not. Jace slept in late.

“Will this teach you to set an alarm?” Alec asks as they speed over the bridge. “Is the siren really necessary? We’re not answering a call.”

Jace glances at him and Alec really wishes he would keep his eyes on the road.

“I set an alarm. But… I had company and-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Alec interrupts.

“What?”

“No one wants to hear about your sexual exploits. There’s a thing called too much information.”

“Quit whining. That’s not why I’m late.” Jace takes his eyes off the road again and twists his head to the back seat of the car. “See, I stopped for coffee.”

Alec jerks the steering wheel as they veer into another lane. Why does he let Jace drive again?

“And coffee was more important than being on time for the briefing?”

Jace accelerates past a school bus before slamming the brakes when he misjudges the distance between them and the truck to their right. Even Alec, who’s used to Jace’s driving by now, winces at how close they came to a collision.

“Doing the coffee run will totally sweeten up Herondale.”

Alec’s sure there’s not enough coffee in the world to get back into the assistant director’s good books.

“For you maybe. Pretty sure this is going to sign my transfer to the Anchorage field office.”

Jace snorts.

“I’m being serious.” She’s made it perfectly clear how little she thinks of him.

“I get that, but Herondale doesn’t like you enough for Anchorage.”

“Well, we can’t all have your family name to coast by on, can we?”

Jace shrugs. “Some of us are just lucky, I guess,” and he aims a shit-eating grin at Alec.

Jace thinks Alec’s joking, and Alec is. Mostly.

 

-

 

The team descend on Jace - like the vultures they are - when they enter the office. Alec swears there could be one lone coffee bean in the office and everyone would know about it. He has to admit that it does make the morning easier. Well, at first at least.

By the time they’re gathering for the briefing, the morning’s offerings are forgotten. Alec takes a seat in the middle of the room, the idea being to blend in. He tries not to draw unnecessary attention to himself, but he can hear the conversations around him. He can sense their eyes on him. Alec understands human behaviour, so knows full well that he’s being judged right now.

It’s been six months since his transfer to the FBI’s New York field office went through, and he thought this was going to be a good a thing. He enjoyed working in Omaha, but the idea of coming home, of being so close to his family, well, he was overjoyed. He’s still happy to have his family closer, but Alec’s struggling to find his place here. It’s difficult enough being transferred to a new office, it’s harder still for an openly gay FBI agent in a highly masculine discipline.

Jace slides into the seat next to Alec.

“Cheer up. It’s not like Aldertree died.” Jace isn’t quiet or subtle and Alec glares daggers at him. He’s about to kick Jace under the table, but Assistant Director Imogen Herondale steps into the room. People quickly find seats, and the room becomes hushed.

Herondale stands at the front of the room, hands clasped together, and it’s as if she just enjoys the silence for a moment.

“Before we start the briefing, I wanted to give an update on Special Agent Aldertree... I’m sure most of you are aware he was injured in the field yesterday.” Herondale’s eyes find Alec and linger, her lips pressed together tightly. He gets it. She thinks he fucked up. “I’m happy to report... that after undergoing surgery, he’s going to make a full recovery.” A murmur echoes around the room. “That being said, he’ll be out of the field for a minimum of eight weeks. Starkweather will distribute any open cases Aldertree was working on until we can find someone to fill his spot.”

Herondale walks as she gives them the information and Alec feels infinitely lighter as he processes. He knew Aldertree had made it through the night, but he’d still been expecting the worst.

“Okay, let’s get down to business.” Herondale gestures and the screen behind her blinks to life. “Two hours ago we received another letter from The Circle…” She taps the device in her hand and a letter made entirely of paper clippings fills the screen.

Herondale’s voice falls away as Alec reads it. It’s code, clearly, it doesn’t make a word of sense otherwise. Alec runs through the codes The Circle previously used in their letters but this one doesn’t have any of the characteristics that would fit them. The Circle’s clever, never using the same code twice, taunting the FBI with enough information to stop their attack, but always holding it just out of reach.

Alec remembers the first letter they received. It hadn’t been treated as a valid threat, simply filed away. But they all stood up and listened when an arson attack engulfed a twelve-storey building, taking twenty-nine lives and injuring hundreds. When the next letter arrived, the team worked day and night to make sense of the riddle. They found the thread, worked out the meaning, but it was still too late. The Circle struck out with poison and killed fifty-seven people. Three more attacks since then, and the only thing connecting them is a letter containing clues to the time frame and location of the attack.

One thing that’s clear to Alec though is that The Circle is escalating, getting bolder and more confident with each successful attack. Alec dreads to think of the number of lives that are currently hanging in the balance.

“...this one is down in Intelligence.” Alec catches the end of Herondale’s speech. His mind too full of possibilities for the answer to these riddles.

“Special Agent Herondale,” the assistant director addresses Jace, “you’re running point on this one.”

“Me?” Jace says, with just a hint of incredulity in his voice. It might be a surprise to him, but it’s not to Alec.

“Yes, after yesterday’s operation, you’ve earnt it.”

Alec’s not sure Jace has ever earnt anything in his life, and Alec tries, he really does, to not let his bitterness over that show. Jace is a good friend (most of the time). They were at the academy together, but it wasn’t until Alec transferred here that they really got to know each other. Jace was the first person to welcome and accept Alec, and now Jace is like family.

Alec still struggles with this area of Jace’s life though, with the fact that a surname like ‘Herondale’ makes him FBI royalty. Jace hates it, it’s something they’ve talked about when drunk, and pretended didn’t happen in the morning. He hates the pressure that comes with that name, the weight of the expectations. So Jace does whatever the hell he likes, and no one calls him out on it. It feels like self-sabotage to Alec, like Jace is fucking up on purpose.

As the briefing winds to a close, Assistant Director Herondale continues, “Starkweather, Fairchild, Underhill. You’re with Agent Herondale. Lightwood...” Alec snaps out of his musings at the use of his name. “...You’re on desk duty.” It takes a while for his mind to understand those words, and suddenly he’s livid. He’s not the only one who fucked up yesterday. He  _should_ have followed orders, but that child should never have been in the line of fire. There should never have been a line of fire to be in. Alec doesn’t know why he’s even surprised. Of course, he’ll just be Herondale’s scapegoat. “The rest of you… I’m sure you have ongoing cases that need handling.”

There’s a pause, filled only with silence and Alec’s internalised rage.

“So… get to it,” she adds and turns on her heel to leave.

The room is suddenly filled with congratulations, agents surrounding Alec and Jace’s chairs. Alec struggles to get through the throng of people to follow Assistant Director Herondale.

“Ma’am?” Alec calls out when he makes it into the corridor. She stops and looks at him. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Lightwood. A hearing has been called and it will be discussed then.”

“Ma’am, I understand. I didn’t follow orders and the hearing is warranted, but wouldn’t my time be better spent working on this case? I’ve got background in profiling and decoding and I think I’d be an asset. I was involved with the other cases too, so I’m already up to speed on the way The Circle works. If I-”

Herondale holds up a hand and Alec instantly stops talking.

“Until the hearing, you’re out of the field. Desk duty only.”

Alec opens his mouth to protest, but she continues.

“You’re not working on this case. Catch up on paperwork, hand over any active investigations… Do I make myself clear?”

Herondale is already walking away before Alec has an opportunity to answer. But yes, she made it crystal clear.

Alec heads back to the briefing room, but he hesitates in the doorway. Jace’s head is tipped back in laughter and Starkweather punches Jace jovially on the shoulder. Alec grabs a copy of the letter off the table. There's a sudden feeling in his gut: he doesn't belong here. No one noticed he wasn't there, not even Jace, and he’s hurt by a wave of jealousy. He pushes it back. He doesn't need to be liked to do his job.

Alec’s brain won't quiet as he goes back to his desk. He knows Jace only got this opportunity because Assistant Director Herondale is his grandmother. She has a soft spot for him - which is understandable, and it probably wouldn't grate on Alec’s nerves as much if she could at least respect Alec as an agent. He just had such high hopes for this office because it’s run by a woman, and Alec doesn't know why he thought that perhaps she would understand or at least empathise with his struggle, being a minority in this office herself. But she’s made it clear that she’s not happy with him. Whether that's because of his orientation, Alec doesn't know. It just feels like she's waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him.

Alec settles at his desk with the letter. He knows she told him to stay out of it, but if Alec can work this out before intelligence does, then he can hopefully cling to his spot here a little longer. He knows he’ll face her wrath if she catches him before he’s done that, but it seems like a risk worth taking.

 

-

 

Alec blearily wipes at his tired eyes. He hasn't been home. He hasn’t slept. His hair sticks up at odd angles from raking his fingers through it in frustration, but he doesn’t care. He can’t contain his excitement, his leg jumping anxiously under the table and it’s got nothing to do with the endless stream of caffeine he’s consumed in the last 12 hours. He figured it out. He knows where The Circle is going to hit next.

As Jace walks into the office, Alec does a quick triple check on his workings. He needs to be certain.

“Could’ve told me you didn’t need a lift, man,” Jace says as he shucks off his jacket and hangs it on the chair at the desk next to Alec’s. “I could’ve put that extra twenty minutes to good use... If you know what I mean.”

Of course, Alec chooses that moment to look up at Jace, and Jace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. Alec really doesn’t  _want_ to know what Jace means. He’s about to tell him just that when Fairchild walks in.

Alec watches the exchange, sees the way Clary smiles sweetly at Jace. There’s something in Jace’s demeanour though. She winks at him and Jace, fucking hell, is Jace blushing? Well, that’s a recipe for disaster.

“The redhead?” Alec says, low enough that only Jace can hear him. Jace is still watching Clary walk away, and Alec flicks a rubber band at his ear to get his attention. “The rookie?”

“What the fuck, Alec?” Jace rubs at his ear. “She just needed a little consoling after Aldertree took a bullet for her. Several... nights of consoling.”

“Stop,” Alec pleads. He doesn’t need or want the image of Jace and Clary going at it in his mind. Thankfully Jace doesn’t continue, just pushes the button to boot up his laptop. Alec leans back in his chair, considering, then lets out a long drawn out whistle. “That’s gonna get messy fast.”

Jace just shrugs, says, “I need coffee,” and walks away from his desk.

It’s only then that Alec remembers his excitement over the letter, and he pushes his chair back, stands, and follows Jace.

“The letter,” Alec starts when he manages to catch up. “Started with the cyphers The Circle used last time, just to check they didn’t repeat, but didn’t get much luck there. Then I tried an interrupted key, an auto key. Struck out there too.”

“Alec.”

“But then I noticed the way the letters were upper or lower case. Struck me as odd… usually, the letter has full words cut out, not single letters. And then it hit me... it’s a Baconian cypher hidden inside the riddle.”

“Alec.”

“Jace, it’s the-”

“Mr United States Pageant? Yeah, Intelligence thought so too.”

“Oh.” Alec’s excitement instantly deflates, and he wonders why he’s only just hearing that now. But of course he didn’t get that memo - he’s on desk duty. Alec trudges back to his desk and looks at the mountain of paperwork. He resigns himself to his fate and settles in for a long day.

He tries to focus on his paperwork. He really does. But is it Alec’s fault if Jace chooses to have his team meeting sat at his desk? Is it Alec’s fault if he can overhear their conversation? Alec would like to get some work done if he’s honest, but the team keep looking to Jace for guidance on how to approach the situation and Jace keeps throwing it back to them by asking for ideas on how best to proceed.

“I mean, time’s limited. The pageant starts in two days. Let’s figure out where to start,” Jace suggests. Isn’t that what they’ve been trying to do for the past hour?

“You’ll probably need cooperation from the network and pageant organisers, right?” Alec says, hoping they’ll take the hint. He can’t listen to  _another_ hour of this.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s contact the pageant and network and set up some meetings... Starkweather, make the calls,” Jace says. Alec might be annoyed at the way Jace says that as though the idea just came to him, but it’s not the first time that’s happened, and Alec hasn’t got the energy for pettiness today.

Jace swivels his chair, the butt of a pen pressed against his lips. “Hmm. What next… what next?”

Alec keeps his eyes on the report he’s writing and says, “Any jurisdiction issues to worry about?”

Jace acknowledges him now and turns to say, “The Circle’s  _ours_. Always has been and the pageant’s in New York. No one’s gonna be able to steal this one from us.”

“But maybe you want to give a couple of the higher up in the NYPD a head’s up so we’re not stepping on their toes? They can give us some support if we need more feet on the ground?”

“Underhill, talk to the Assistant Director,” Jace instructs. “Ask her to liaise with the NYPD and to share whatever information she can within their clearance levels.”

Alec’s brain’s whirring with possibilities now. What’s next? He thinks. What angles do they need to make sure they cover?

“Every other attack has been public. We’re probably looking at an outdoor preliminary or the live broadcast. If they want maximum impact, my best bet would be the broadcast, but we should cover our bases and plan for all.”

“Yeah,” Jace agrees. “We’ll need to cover the perimeter.”

“Hmm… it’s more than that.” Alec’s somehow been drawn into the conversation. The group look at him in question and he continues. “There are areas with restricted access. It’s going to be noticeable if there’s more security in those areas. We don’t want to spook them. It will make the contestants and staff more wary too. Make it more difficult to get a clear picture of what’s going on. We need somebody in there.”

Jace bangs a hand on the desk, making Fairchild jump in surprise. “Okay… I’m thinking undercover. Right?”

“That’s a great idea… boss,” Fairchild tells him, and Alec wants to puke. Especially given the vibes that pass between the two of them with the way she said ‘boss’. Don’t go there, he tells his mind, please, don’t go there.

“What’s his name... from accounts, the tall one, the um…” Alec can tell Jace is trying not to say, ‘the gay one’.

“Scott?” Alec provides. They’d had a… Alec wouldn’t call it a thing, more like a short dalliance perhaps, nothing more than flirtation, when Alec had first transferred. Okay, there was that one kiss. Under the radar, of course.

“Scott. Yeah, he’d be perfect.”

“Perfectly transferred to Sacramento,” Alec adds.

Alec tunes them out as they run through potential agents to go undercover. Thirty minutes later, and they’re no closer to settling on anyone.

“Ugh.” Alec pushes back from his desk, stretches and says, “You’re getting desperate now. In a minute you’ll be suggesting me.”

Alec shakes his head at the group, but then he notices the way they’re looking at him. Clary appreciatively hmm’s, her eyes roving up his body and Alec gets the urge to cover himself despite the fact that he’s fully clothed.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jace says.

“No way! Besides… I’m on desk duty.”

And Alec foolishly thinks that’s the end of it.

 

-

 

Alec lines up the shot, adjusts his grip, his stance, and squeezes the trigger on an exhale. The recoil reverberates down his arms and, even with the ear protection he’s wearing, the bullet firing from the gun echoes loudly.

He’d prefer a bow in his hands, but the FBI’s gun range, unfortunately, doesn’t cater for that. He’s frustrated. Why did they have to catch a new case from The Circle the day he gets desk duty? He’s itching to get the chance to work on it. And to lead a team. Damn. That would be a dream. Herondale doesn’t think he has the social skills for it, just because he doesn’t sit around and measure his dick with the rest of the agents in the office. Just because he’s a stickler for doing the right thing no matter what.

Pangborn, an Agent in Omaha, once told Alec that he was worse than an Internal Affairs agent because at least Pangborn knew an IA agent would be a backstabbing jerk. Was it Alec’s fault that Pangborn was taking bribes on the side? No, but it would have been if Alec had allowed that to continue. He’d given Pangborn the opportunity to come clean as well, it wasn’t on Alec that the guy hadn’t taken him up on it.

And why is he thinking about Pangborn of all people right now? Alec’s disgusted with himself. He empties the clip into the target and he still doesn’t feel any better.

He doesn’t notice Jace until he pulls his ear muffs off and he knows exactly what Jace is about to ask.

“No,” Alec tells him.

“Come on, man. You’re the most qualified.”

“Being gay isn’t a qualification, Jace. You don’t graduate from gay college and get a fucking certificate of gayness.”

Alec releases the clip and reaches for a new one from the shelf in front of him.

“It’s not that,” Jace says.

Alec slams the gun onto the table, his frustration finally escaping his control.

“Give me one good reason - that isn’t because I’m gay - that you couldn’t pick anyone else in the office.”

Jace doesn’t say anything. The silence between them is awkward and filled with Alec’s sudden burst of anger. An agent at the end of the range gives them the side eye, and Alec tries to keep his voice low when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be gay to enter a beauty pageant.”

“But I bet it helps.”

“Jace,” Alec warns. “You’re being a bigoted dick. Remember when we agreed that I should call you out on that?”

Jace doesn’t acknowledge Alec’s words. “Look, I’m trying to do you a favour here. You’re on the Assistant Director’s shit list, but I used a little of my charm and she authorised you to be in the field for this. Dude… you fucked up, but don’t blow this second chance.”

Alec mulls it over. It annoys him that Jace is right.

“It doesn’t change the fact that you’re being a dick.”

“Noted.”

And though neither of them explicitly say it, it’s clear they’ve reached an agreement. Alec just became a contestant for the Mr United States pageant. He’s not sure what he’s gotten himself into, but he’s 99% certain that he’s going to live to regret it.


	2. Chapter 2

Alec’s already regretting his decision to accept the undercover mission the minute he walks into the headquarters of the Mr United States beauty pageant. He can’t quite put his finger on why he feels such unease. It probably stems from the fact that, despite calling ahead and arranging an appointment, they’ve been standing in the foyer waiting for the past twenty minutes. Tardiness is one thing that Alec can’t stand.

He knows it’s just a power play, but it pisses him off all the same. It doesn’t help that the faces of the past five Mr United States look down from their portraits on the wall. They look so happy, like they won the fucking lottery or something. There are tears in their eyes and pure joy on their faces and Alec can’t understand how a beauty pageant could elicit such a response. Then again, he’s not sure why people put sugar in coffee. There are some real heathens in the world.

Alec’s eyes catch on last year’s winner. Smile, wide and bright, looking up into the sky as if saying thank you to some deity for the moment. _Fuck._ Is that makeup on the guy’s face? It is. No one said anything about him having to wear makeup.

“Miss Belcourt will see you now,” the receptionist says, interrupting Alec’s spiralling panic.

The lady at the front desk had been polite but was positively horrified when they’d presented their badges and introduced themselves. She’s much more poised and collected now. Alec gets it, it’s not every day the FBI show up at someone’s place of work.

They’re shown through the building, stopping at an office door. Alec decides to let Jace take the lead as they step into the room. He’s better at this kind of thing, or well, he has more fun with it. Alec can be perfectly charming when he wants to be, the problem is that he generally never wants to be.

“Miss Belcourt,” Jace greets, all smiles. “I’m Special Agent Jace Herondale, and this is my partner Special Agent Alec Lightwood.”

Miss Belcourt stands as Jace introduces them. Alec watches the way she smooths down the material of her tight dress that’s ridden up from being seated, and assesses the two of them.

“Thank you for taking the time in your busy schedule to see us,” Jace says, oozing charm, and Alec has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“It’s no problem at all,” Miss Belcourt says. “Call me Camille. Please, sit.”

Alec hasn’t said a word to her yet, and he’s not sure he ever wants to. There’s something very ingenuine about Camille Belcourt. It’s not just the way she dresses - just the acceptable side of risque for the workplace - or the way she’s styled - makeup to the max, hair curled and hanging loosely around her face, nails that look more like talons painted in blood red. It’s the way she holds herself and speaks - Alec can see that what she’s presenting is just a facade. The problem is, he’s not sure what’s beneath that.

“I’m not sure I understand the need for this meeting… agents?”

She’s looking at Jace, so Alec sits back and allows Jace to explain. It’s  _his_ operation after all. “Unfortunately, we have to inform you that some information has come to light that has lead us to believe that a terrorist is targeting your pageant.”

“Scholarship programme,” Camille interrupts, her demeanour suddenly somewhat hoity.

“Sorry?”

“It’s a scholarship programme for young gentlemen.”

“Oh?” Jace says in question.

“Yes, and we’ve been promoting it as such since we first set up Mr United States.”

Good god, how  _dare_ they not know this.

“Still… I just  _couldn’t_ bear it if one of our contestants got hurt,” she says dramatically.

Alec’s sure she could. He can see her artfully standing in front of the cameras with tear-stained cheeks as she regales the tale of how she’d rather it were her. Oh yeah, Camille Belcourt knows how to play a situation to her advantage, he sensed that the moment he stepped into this room, and the more time he sits here, the more his suspicions are confirmed. His dislike grows further. He’s never been a fan of someone who can cash in on other’s pain. He’s seen her type before and to him, they’re the lowest of the low.

“So, how can I help?”

“We’d like to put an Agent into the pag- um… scholarship programme… undercover,” Jace explains.

“You want me to fix the competition?” Camille takes a long drawn in breath for effect, hand pressed to her breast. This woman could win an Oscar. “Do you want him to win?”

“Camille, we wouldn’t ask that of you,” Jace tries to assure her. “Our agent would just need a little help to make sure they get into the top five.”

Camille huffs out a breath, pushes the hair back from her face and pouts. “Well, I _suppose_ we can arrange that.” Even though she says the words, she doesn’t sound very pleased about it. “But who will you enter? Every state has already been chosen.”

“We’ve already addressed that,” Alec says. He wants to get this conversation moving and leave this god awful woman as soon as he can. “It seems Mr New Jersey isn’t the doe-eyed twenty-five-year-old that he claimed, or unmarried, or faithful for that matter.”

“Really?” Camille asks, scandalised. Though Alec can see she’s already calculating a way to break this to the press so that she comes out of it in the most favourable light, preferably with a few days of screen time. “So, what agent did you have in mind?”

Jace looks at Alec, and Alec raises his hand. He’s not sure why he did that. How did he suddenly regress to a high schooler? Perhaps it’s because Camille reminds him of his principal and he’d seen a lot of the inside of that office.

Camille’s gaze dances between the two of them.

“Him?” she says and Alec’s sure there’s a hint of incredulity to her voice. Which is fucking rude.

Gracefully, she stands. “Let me get you the number of a pageant consultant, Magnus Bane.”

Doesn’t she mean scholarship programme consultant? Camille steps around the desk and moves to the door and Alec catches the “Maybe he can work a miracle” that she says just under her breath as she leaves the room.

 

-

 

Alec leaves Jace to set up a meeting with this Magnus Bane. Magnus suggests a late lunch at some fancy restaurant Alec’s never heard of, and when they arrive the waiter gives Alec a look of judgement, and Alec fully understands. He, too, knows he isn’t dressed for a restaurant like this. His black slacks and dark grey shirt are dependable, which is something you need when in the field, but they’re definitely not fancy enough for a place like this. Alec doesn’t eat out much in New York, but even if he did, it would probably only be at a food truck or a bar. He glances down at his scuffed shoes and wishes he’d thought to give them a polish. Oh well, nothing he can do about it now.

Jace flashes his badge at the waiter. “We’ve a table with Magnus Bane.” Alec enjoys watching the waiter scramble, just for the judgement he’d been greeted with.

“Right this way,” the man tells them and guides them through the room.

The restaurant is fairly quiet and Alec’s eyes fall on the only man seated by himself, and well… fuck. Alec’s not sure what he expected, but  _this_ isn’t it. The eyes draw Alec in first, the deep brown depths of them are striking, especially given the way they’re accentuated with dark eyeliner. They’re warm and their attention is fully on the waiter Magnus is talking to. Lips that are full and pink move with the words he speaks, and are outlined with a goatee. His dark hair, threaded through with electric blue, is coiffed back from his face and it shifts with the animated way he’s conversing.

Magnus Bane is hot as hell. The truth of it hits Alec full force and he struggles to keep his stride smooth. Magnus is young too, can’t be older than thirty-five. Somehow, he’d expected some sixty-year-old dictating proper etiquette to him.

Magnus tips his head back, a peal of laughter ringing out. His hand is resting on the arm of the waiter stood next to him, and the waiter laughs with him. Magnus gives a cheeky wink and the waiter shakes his head before moving away from the table.

“Magnus Bane?” Jace enquires.

Magnus stands with a grace Alec couldn’t even hope to possess and walks around the table to greet them. Those deep brown eyes are on Alec the whole way.

Next to him, Jace continues, but Alec can’t look away from Magnus. “We spoke earlier on the phone. I’m-”

“Jace Herondale. Yes, I remember,” Magnus says dismissively, but he’s still not looking at Jace, his eyes are focused on Alec. Alec’s heart beats wildly in his chest, and he doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“And… who are _you_?” Magnus asks as he holds out a hand. Alec’s hands feel clammy and he struggles to figure out where his voice went. He tries to find it as he wipes a hand on his trousers before taking the hand Magnus is offering.

“Alec,” Alec says. His tongue feels thick in his mouth and his brain feels foggy. That’s not how an FBI agent should introduce themselves.

Magnus’ eyebrows draw together in a frown and Alec doesn’t know what he did to put it there, but he instantly wants to take it back. “Alexander Lightwood?”

Magnus does look at Jace now, and as those eyes leave Alec’s, the moment and whatever trance he must have been in is broken.

“No,” Magnus says. “It can’t be done.”

Oh. Alec’s stomach drops out. Magnus doesn’t think Alec can do this.

“Miss Belcourt told us you were the best,” Jace says.

Anger flashes across Magnus’ face. And though he says, “Oh, I’m _sure_ she did…” Jace’s words do the trick. Magnus looks back at Alec, but this time his gaze is clinical, an assessment. It feels all wrong, despite the heat it ignites along Alec’s skin.

“Well… there’s potential. But 48 hours just aren’t enough, even for me.”

Alec’s not sure why he wants to impress Magnus, isn’t sure why he wants this man’s approval. They don’t even know each other, only met minutes ago.

“Look,” Jace says. “The meal is paid for. Talk it over with Alec. I’m sure you can come to an agreement. We just need him to be passable, to blend in.”

They keep talking about Alec like he’s not even there and it’s starting to piss him off.

“You’re not staying?” Alec asks Jace. Surely he should be here to convince Magnus, it’s his operation after all.

“I’ve got… that _thing_ to do.”

Alec knows that  _thing_ probably involves a certain redhead and he’s sure he doesn’t want any more information.

Once Jace leaves, the two of them sit across from each other and Alec can’t understand why he feels so unsure. How can an FBI agent feel so far out of his depth? Maybe it’s something to do with that attraction he felt the moment he saw Magnus. Whatever it is, he can’t afford for it to affect him like this.

“Mr Bane,” Alec starts.

“Magnus.”

“What?”

“Call me Magnus.”

“Oh, okay.” It feels a bit too personal for Alec right now, but he needs to get Magnus on his side. “Magnus. Um… the Bureau would greatly appreciate any help you could provide.”

Alec plays with the stem of his glass as he speaks, drawing his eyes away from Magnus.

“Don’t do that,” Magnus says.

“What?”

“Don’t look away when you’re feeling nervous.” How does Magnus know he’s feeling nervous when even Alec didn’t realise what the butterflies in his stomach meant? “Mr United States is confident and comfortable with himself. Hold eye contact when you talk to me… You’ve got the eyes for it.”

Alec nods. He would hold Magnus’ gaze if he didn’t feel like he would drown in Magnus’ eyes. _Fuck_. He can’t think like this. He steels himself and as they talk through the meal, he makes sure to keep eye contact. Magnus flirts, which Alec is beginning to think is just a part of being Magnus Bane, but it doesn’t feel as open or genuine as that first ‘and who are you?’

As they finish their wine, both having eaten their fill, Magnus suddenly says, “Did you know I was once the most highly sought-after consultant?”

“You’re not anymore?”

Magnus chuckles ruefully to himself. “Why do you think I’m the only one available so close to the competition?”

That’s a very valid question. “But Miss Belcourt recommended you?”

“Oh, yes.” Magnus smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, which seem to be staring off somewhere. “A subtle dig, I’m sure. Her way of saying she _knew_ I’d be available.”

Alec’s intrigued by the tension he’s feeling from Magnus. There’s apparently no love lost between Camille and Magnus and Alec would like to know why. He’d also like to know what happened to make Magnus lose his sought-after status. If he’s honest, he’d like to know everything about Magnus Bane.

“ _If_ I were to do this, you would have to agree to follow my instructions… _All_ of my instructions.”

Why did those words give Alec a sudden x-rated fantasy? He takes a sip of his water - no drinking on the job. Magnus had laughed when Alec had told him that.

“I can do that,” Alec agrees once he’s got a hold of himself.

“Okay. Then we have a deal.”

And Alec doesn’t know if working with Magnus Bane is going to be a blessing or a curse.

 

-

 

When they leave the restaurant Alec realises he’s having fun with Magnus. He doesn’t usually like wasting his work time with food and small talk. He’d rather be knee deep in a case or even wading through stacks of paperwork. But Magnus, somehow, makes this easy for him.

“Oh god, Alec,” Magnus says, horrified.

Alec’s eyes quickly scan the crowd, assessing the situation. “What?”

“You can’t walk like _that_!”

Alec relaxes. No threat, well… unless he counts the fact that he might throttle Magnus for making him think something was seriously wrong. “There’s nothing wrong with how I walk.”

“Yes,” Magnus agrees, but he sounds exasperated. “But Mr United States doesn’t simply  _walk_ … he glides.”

Alec rolls his eyes. Is it going to be like this the whole time? “Men don’t glide.”

Magnus pats him on the arm. “Just watch.” Then he flounces off down the sidewalk in front of Alec. Alec can’t pull his gaze from the way Magnus’ hips sway, from the taut ass that’s hugged almost indecently by those trousers. When Magnus stops and turns, Alec somehow manages to move forward.

“I… I can’t walk like that,” Alec says. “I can’t do that.”

“Come on. It’ll be a damn sight better than that angry stomping you’ve got going on,” Magnus teases.

And Alec can’t help but protest, “I don’t stomp.”

“You’re doing it right now, Alexander,” Magnus says then adds with a shake of his head, “You’re so straight, it’s painful.”

Wait… Magnus thinks he’s straight?

“I’m gay,” Alec blurts out because for some reason he desperately needs Magnus to know that fact.

Then Magnus looks at him, really looks at him and Alec has to suppress a shiver.

Magnus’ lips bloom into a smile. “Just give it a try?”

So Alec does. He tries to emulate the way Magnus moved, but Magnus just bursts out laughing.

“Really?” He knew he was going to look like an idiot, but does Magnus really have to rub it in?

“You’re picking your feet up too high,” Magnus tells him as he dissects his movements. Magnus puts a finger under Alec’s chin and lifts his head until their eyes meet.  “And you need to stop looking down.” For a few seconds, Alec forgets to breathe.

Then Magnus takes a step back, his eyes moving down Alec’s body. “And these hips. Can you use them... just a little? _Please?_ I’m sure I’m not the only one that would enjoy watching them move.”

Magnus is walking around Alec, his hands coming to settle on Alec’s hips and Alec has to stop himself from jerking out of the touch. It’s not really appropriate for Magnus to be touching him like this in the middle of the street, body pressed so close to him that Alec can feel the heat radiating from him. Magnus urges Alec to take a step forward, his body still moulded to Alec’s back. That spark of arousal that’s been slowly burning away suddenly flares to life as Magnus guides Alec’s hips.

“Okay. Okay, I’ve got it,” Alec eventually says when he can’t take anymore. When it feels like he’s going to combust with need. And those hands, that Alec wants to forever be on his skin, move away.

How is he going to handle Magnus Bane? Or more to the point, how is he going to stop  _himself_ handling Magnus?

 

-

 

Alec’s still not sure what he’s going to tell Izzy about this whole thing when he steps into his apartment that evening. He’s going to be missing for days. He supposes that he could just tell her he’ll be out of town on work business, but Isabelle loves the Mr United States pageant. She’s followed it since its inception and he’ll never hear the end of it if she switches on the TV and he’s just magically standing there as Mr New Jersey.

Alec secures his badge and weapon before walking through the rest of the apartment and calling out, “Iz?”

“In here,” she shouts from her bedroom, but her voice sounds strangely muffled.

Alec pushes the door open and just stares. It looks like a bomb has gone off. Her bed, the floor, and every possible surface, are littered with clothes, and as he stands there she throws a dress behind her.

“What happened?” Alec asks.

“Nothing. I’m tidying.”

“Tidying? It was worse than this at some point?”

“Alec.”

“Okay, fine.” Isabelle disappears into her closet and Alec wonders if she’ll ever be found again. It must have a passageway to Narnia in there, or at least be bigger on the inside, to ever have once fit all of these clothes in there.

“I’m not gonna be around for the rest of the week,” Alec tells her.

“Oh?”

“I’ve got an undercover assignment at work.”

She pops her head of the closet. “Do tell.”

He decides to just bite the bullet. “I’m… I’m going to be in the Mr United States pageant.”

There’s silence for a long moment. Then she squeals. “Are you _kidding_ me!?”

“If it saves my eardrums from whatever noise you just made, then, yeah.”

Isabelle just gives him a look.

“Okay. I’m being serious.”

Isabelle extricates herself from the closet and gives Alec her full attention. “Okay, this is amazing. You can get _all_ the inside gossip.”

“Pretty sure national security is more important than who’s fucking who.”

“Yes, but I’m sure all those details like ‘ _who’s fucking who_ ’ would help.”

She’s got a point. “True.”

Isabelle manages to wade her way through the sea of clothing to the doorway. She threads her arm through Alec’s and leads him into the living room.

“Okay, there’s so much to catch you up on,” she tells him.

“I’ve been briefed.”

“Oh, Alec.” She laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “Not like this, you haven’t. Where to start…”

Hours, a phone call for takeout, and several slices of pizza later, Alec thinks he should have come to her first. She knows everything about everyone in this world. And when he finally heads to bed, his mind is full of who’s hating who - Raj and Alaric. Who’s fucking who - Daniel and Heidi. Who doesn’t deserve their spot - Sebastian. It’s far more information than he actually needs to know. But Isabelle’s right… sometimes the smallest detail can lead to a big break in a case and they really need a win on this one.

 

-

 

The next day, when Jace pulls up to a building Alec doesn’t recognise, Alec’s hackles instantly rise.

“Why are we stopping here?” he asks Jace.

Jace doesn’t say anything just points at the man standing in the doorway. Magnus. Alec runs his fingers through his hair. He’s not sure he even remembered to brush it this morning. There’s a red cap stuck in the pocket of the door and Alec pulls it out and settles it on his head. That’ll have to do. He’s not sure why Magnus makes him so self-conscious, but he knows he could do without the feeling.

“Ready?” Magnus asks when they join him.

“Ready for what?”

Jace and Magnus share a look and Alec would like to know what the hell is going on.

“You’ll see,” is all Jace says.

Magnus’ hand rests on the door, he looks at Alec and says, “Okay, let the magic begin,” then pushes the doors open. As Alec takes in the room in front of him, he immediately feels sick. What the hell is all this?

Jace whistles. “Damn… the team really came through.”

Alec looks at the different chairs and tables and the products sitting on them all. That’s a chair to wash hair. That looks like that place that Isabelle goes to get a spray tan. A team of people stand expectantly in the middle of the room. And there are rails and rails of clothing.

“You organised this?” Alec asks.

“I’m brilliant, right?”

“Not the word I would have used,” Alec grouches.

Magnus pushes the cap up from Alec’s face, then takes it off completely. They’re close again. Close enough to kiss… not that Alec’s been thinking about having those lips on his. Not at all.

“Okay. We’ve got definite potential.” Magnus said that last time they met, but he didn’t wink at the end of it like he does now. Breathe, Alec wills himself.

“We’ll start with the hair,” Magnus says and gestures to someone from the group.

Alec self-consciously raises a hand to his head. “What’s wrong with my hair?” He knows it needs brushing, but other than that he thought it was okay.

Magnus pushes Alec backwards, in the direction the hairstylist is moving. He’s strong, and Alec’s eyes fall on the biceps that threaten to rip the seams of Magnus’ shirt. Magnus guides him to sit in a chair, head back, and a lady washes his hair. Magnus talks to her and still, no one has addressed his question of what’s wrong with his hair.

“We want it to look natural, but tidy. So… a little shorter at the sides and the back. Maybe… hmm, yes. A lighter brown threaded through?”

That’s how Alec finds himself with foil in his hair. Who puts foil in their hair? And why does it smell so goddamn awful? Alec liked his hair. It was doing well for him; it was low maintenance. He’s worried whatever they’ve put on it is going to make it all fall out because anything that smells like that can’t be good for it.

“Facial next,” Magnus informs him.

Perfect. Just what Alec’s always wanted - a stranger touching him. Some man - he introduces himself as Chris - smooths this weird cream over his face. Apparently, it’s made from cucumber. Alec thought that was just for eating.

His nails are buffed and painted while the cream dries. He’s thankful when it’s washed off. It was starting to itch, but with his nails being painted he couldn’t scratch it. Next they pluck his eyebrows, whiten his teeth, and finally wash the smell from his hair.

Somehow, Alec’s only wearing his boxers and he’s not sure how that happened. This whole thing is chaos. Complete and utter  _chaos_. Alec thinks this might be hell.

“While it pains me to do this because you’ve got that everyday rugged look going on and  _boy_ is it working for you,” Magnus tells him. “This has got to go,” and to emphasise his point, Magnus presses a finger to the hair on Alec’s chest as he says the words.

“It pains _you_?” Alec has to hold back a blush - he hasn’t blushed for years - because of the way Magnus is looking at him. Alec reminds himself that he’s only wearing boxers and his dick really needs to behave.

“Oh, it does,” Magnus says with a tut.

The young woman next to him spreads hot wax over his skin, but that’s got nothing to do with the reason Alec’s feeling so overheated. No, that’s all Magnus. Alec thinks the woman has kind eyes as she presses a strip over the wax.

Alec’s ready with a reply, but the strip is quickly ripped off. And  _fuck._ Alec doesn’t make a noise. He holds it in, but if his eyes water a little, well, none of them mention it. Did he think she had  _kind_ eyes? Did he  _really_ think that? This woman is a nightmare. It gets worse - how can it get worse - when he realises that Magnus wasn’t referring to just the hair on his chest.

Someone is going to pay for this. Someone is going to pay dearly.

Alec’s not sure how long it takes. They give him that spray tan he was fearing, style his hair,  and argue over what clothes to dress him in. It feels like days, but eventually, they’re done.

Alone, for what feels like the first time in a lifetime, Alec looks at himself in the mirror. Is that… he can hardly believe that’s him. He looks good. He looks… more than good. His skin has this - he wants to say radiance - to it. His eyes seem to just pop. Probably the combination of the forest green shirt he’s wearing and the mascara someone had attacked him with.

Alec pulls the shirt down. It’s tighter than he would ever have chosen for himself, would probably tear if he tried to tackle a suspect while wearing it. He grabs the grey suit jacket from the chair and slides his arms into it. He looks at himself once more in the mirror.

“You’ve got this,” he assures himself.

Alec takes a deep breath. Confidence. Isn’t that what Magnus said he needed? He tells himself he’s just playing someone else. Someone that believes in himself.

“Damn,” Jace says when Alec steps out into the main room. “Is that you, Alec?”

Alec doesn’t know whether to be offended or not, but given that he’s already pissed that Jace sprang this on him without warning, he settles on offended.

Magnus lets out a low whistle and though he’s across the room, Alec hears him say, “I’m good… I’m _very_ good.”

Jace draws Alec to a table set with things Alec, thankfully, recognises.

“Standard earpiece,” Jace tells him and it holds it out. Alec fits it into his ear. “This will allow us to be in constant communication.”

Jace takes a small American flag pin from the table and attaches it to the collar of Alec’s shirt. “Camera,” he explains. “This way we can see everything that’s going on too.”

Alec picks his own gun and badge up off the table.

“I don’t think so,” Magnus interrupts.

“I’m not going in unarmed.”

“And where are you going to put it? Hmm.” There’s a wicked look in Magnus’ eye.

“Use your backup, the ankle piece,” Jace says, trying to keep the peace. “You can have the gun and badge but don’t wear it on the job. We’ll be with you for backup if you need it.”

“Fine.”

“And here’s your new ID.”

Alec looks at the name, Arthur John Trueblood. “You know I hate you, right?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Jace asks.

“Arthur?”

“What? You can shorten it to Artie.”

Alec takes a deep breath to calm himself. “It might take years, but when you least expect it I’m gonna get you back for _all_ of this.”

“Alec, you know that’s an empty threat.”

It not a threat at all, Alec thinks. It’s a promise. A hell of a promise.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s midday when they pull up to the hotel. When the taxi comes to a halt in the entranceway, butterflies turn Alec’s stomach over. This is it. _Fuck._ This is  _really_ it. How hard can it be? He asks himself. All he has to do is stand and look pretty, right? Given the gunk in his hair and the makeup on his face, he shouldn’t have a problem with that.

Magnus opens the door and steps out, but Alec takes an extra minute to calm himself, before pushing himself out the door. He’s conscious of how goddamn tight his clothes are. Magnus said they’re cut perfectly for his body, but Alec’s sure they shouldn’t mould themselves to him like this.

Alec spots Camille standing in the foyer. Her eyes lock onto them and she steps out, making her way over to them.

“Just let me do the talking,” Magnus says.

“Magnus Bane,” Camille greets sweetly as she nears. “Do my eyes deceive me?”

“Not at all, darling,” Magnus replies and she leans in for him to press a kiss to her cheek.

They step back, Camille’s not even looked at Alec yet. “You’re looking… well,” Magnus tells her, but Alec gets the impression he doesn’t mean it.

She waves a hand at his compliment. “How many years has it been since you were last part of a pageant?”

Magnus’ eyes turn cold, but when he speaks his voice holds that same false warmth. “Four, as you very well know, Camille. I must thank you for suggesting me.”

“How could I _not_ give them your name? I just thought to myself, ‘Camille, who will be free to take on a contestant this close to the competition?’ and of course, it was your name that came to mind.”

Alec’s reminded of his first conversation with Magnus. When he’d said just this. It’s a strange feeling of deja vu.

“Well… all the same. I’m in - I’m much obliged.”

Alec gets the feeling there’s another conversation going on underneath this one.

Camille finally notices Alec standing there, it takes a second for recognition to flicker across her face. Alec thinks there might be approval as well, though he can do without the approval of Camille Belcourt.

“Well, it seems like you still have a knack for achieving the impossible, Magnus.”

“It must be left over from that year we won together,” Magnus fires back without missing a beat.

Camille purses her lips. “Now, let’s play nice Magnus.”

Then she turns to Alec and winds an arm through his. Alec doesn't want her to ever touch him. “Artie, let me show you to the sign in area.” She looks back at Magnus. “Be a dear and get the bags, won’t you?”

Alec’s dragged off before he can offer to help Magnus. He doesn’t like her. He didn’t at their first meeting, but now, with the way she just treated Magnus, he’s developed an even greater loathing. He’s also got an intense case of curiosity. What, Alec wonders, happened between the two of them, to result in an altercation like that? He reminds himself to ask Isabelle what she knows later.

 

-

  


Alec pulls at his collar as he stands in a line of people waiting to sign in. It feels like it suddenly got two sizes smaller, like it’s constricting him, cutting off his ability to breathe. It’s a stupid response, he knows it is, but even as he admits that to himself, he can’t stop almost gasping for breath. Camille’s gone, and that should be a relief. But now Alec’s alone, standing in this room filled with people. Eyes keep drifting over him before their owners devolve into hushed whispers. Alec’s so used to blending in. So often when he’s undercover the aim is to go unnoticed, to  _not_ draw attention to himself. But here, well, all eyes are on him.

The room is busy. People all around him are talking animatedly. Introductions and small talk. God, that sounds like Alec’s worst nightmare. Two people in front of him are discussing the pitfalls of maintaining flawless makeup in this heat and Alec wants to be somewhere else - anywhere else. It’s not that he doesn’t like being around people, it’s just that he doesn’t enjoy feeling like the centre of attention.

Alec adjusts his suit and wishes he could get rid of this damn jacket that he feels like he can’t even move in. And the pants, dear god, it’s like they’re a second skin. What’s the point of him even wearing clothes, and really what was wrong with his own clothes? Then he tugs on the sash that crosses his body for what must be the fifth time. He kind of wishes Magnus was here. Mainly because Alec’s noticed that Magnus has this way of just putting him at ease, but also because why would anyone be looking at Alec if Magnus was standing next to him? Magnus Bane has this incredible knack of commanding attention. It probably doesn’t hurt that he’s fucking gorgeous too.

“You’re new, right?” a male voice says from behind Alec.

“I’m sorry?” Alec asks as he turns.

The guy is Simon Lewis - Rhode Island. Alec’s been briefed on all of the contestants and has memorised all their names and faces. He’s shorter than Alec, around 5’ 10” Alec would guess, in comparison to Alec’s 6’ 3”. Black rimmed glasses perch on Simon’s nose and his brown hair is artfully styled. The suit he’s wearing is deep burgundy and, though Alec wouldn’t ever dare to wear anything that colour, it looks good, really good. There’s a hint of stubble on his face and Alec’s pissed Magnus made him shave his off.

“You’re not in the guide. Everyone’s picture is in there, but not yours. Simon,” he holds out a hand.

“Yeah… it’s Artie,” Alec introduces himself.

Simon steps close, and Alec fights the urge to take a step back. Doesn’t anyone understand personal space around here? Not Magnus, not Camille, and now Simon.

Voice low, Simon says, “I heard all about the previous Mr New Jersey. It was all  _quite_ a scandal. Miss Belcourt was so upset about having to bring the information to light, but she knew that she had to do what was right.” Alec bet she did. It didn’t have anything to do with money, or five minutes in the limelight. “It’s the biggest scandal to hit the Mr United States pageant. Not like the Miss United States version. It’s scandal galore over there.”

Alec wonders how much the audience and the press doesn’t see. Then he realises, fuck, he’s going to have to be a part of it all.

“Really?”

“Yeah. So… New Jersey, what’s it like there? I once went to Atlantic City, do you live close to there? Have you visited?” Simon doesn’t take a breath, just keeps on talking. “You didn’t have too far to travel. Like me…. Man, I’m just so excited. Aren’t you excited?”

Alec’s positively riveted. Does Simon really expect him to answer all those questions?

“I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this day,” Alec says. How he manages to keep a straight face, he’s got no clue.

“Right? I grew up watching the Miss United States pageant, and I used to tell my mum _‘that’ll be me one day.’_ She didn’t have the heart to tell me my penis would stop me. And then they introduced the Mr United States pageant, and it was like a sign… I just knew I had to get here.”

Alec can’t imagine that his dream would be to enter a _pageant._ That this would be his biggest ambition in life, to stand and look handsome, to give the same inane answer about world peace. God, he’d die of boredom.

“Next?” the woman behind the desk calls. That’s Alec. Thank fuck. It means he doesn’t have to try and convince Simon that he feels the same way.

“Name and State?” The woman asks when Alec steps forward.

Alec fights the urge to roll his eyes. He’s wearing a sash with the words Mr New Jersey boldly printed on it, it’s pretty obvious who he is. But he’s supposed to be excited about being here, he reminds himself.

“Arthur John Trueblood, Mr New Jersey.”

It takes a few minutes for the woman - Christy, her name badge says - to find him on the list, but once she does, she hands him a welcome pack.

“This contains the competition’s schedule. Read it, memorise it. Don’t lose it,” she picks a key up off the desk. “Your bags will be taken to your room. I’ve got you listed as 302. Here... “

Alec takes the key from her outstretched hand.

“There’ll be a short welcome talk in the conference room. It starts in… 15 minutes, if you’d like to make your way over there. Thanks.”

And then she’s looking at the line behind him and calling for the next contestant.

Alec figures that’s all the information he’s going to get and steps back from the desk, and right into Simon.

“Sorry,” Alec mumbles.

“It’s fine. The welcome talk is from Miss Camille Belcourt herself. Can you believe it?” Simon says, and Alec’s not sure how it happened but they’re walking towards the conference room together. ”We’re going to be in the same room as a former Miss United States! I’m going to die. She’s going to walk into the room... and like, I’m just going to die.”

“Me too,” Alec says, and this time he means it. He hopes it, at any rate. Anything to get out of this.

Simon steps ahead of Alec as they walk into the conference room, and Alec says under his breath, “Does this guy have an off switch?”

It’s not really fair to Simon, it’s not Simon that he’s frustrated with, it’s this whole situation. He’s so far out of his comfort zone that he feels like he’s in orbit.

“Play nice,” Jace says in his ear. “Besides, I thought he was just your type.”

Alec tries to keep the annoyance from his face, tries to keep giving warm smiles as he passes by people. Jace thinks that anyone with a penis is Alec’s type, which Alec guesses is understandable, given that anyone with a vagina is Jace’s.

“You getting all this?” Alec asks, deciding to ignore Jace’s question altogether. It’s not that Simon isn’t good looking, he is, but Alec can say that, objectively, he doesn’t feel overcome with desire when he looks at Simon… not like he does with Magnus. Magnus. Where is Magnus? Fuck. Stop thinking about him, Alec chastises himself. He has a job to do.

“Yeah, hearing you loud and clear. Picture’s good too, just stop fiddling with that name thing, it keeps sliding over the lens.”

Alec will have to remember to pin the flag to his sash later. He knows he’s expected to wear it at all times. Even in the swimsuit competition. No. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about being almost completely naked on live television.

“Artie,” Simon calls. “We can sit here.”

Alec doesn’t know whether to be glad or not that Simon’s latched onto him like this. Sure, Simon talks a lot, and it’s kind of annoying, but he’s harmless.

“Hi, I’m Bat,” Mr New York introduces himself and holds out a hand. Alec shakes it. “Pennsylvania is Sebastian… Charlie is Illinois and Connecticut is Jordan.”

Alec nods at each of them. “Arthur,” he introduces himself. God, he fucking hates that name.

They talk for a while. Gossip would be the more accurate term, and Alec stays out of it. He does keep one ear on the conversation though, filing away anything that he thinks might be helpful. Then Simon looks down at his watch and the excitement comes off him in waves, Alec hopes it’s not contagious.

“It’s going to start any minute now. We’re going to be in the same room as Camille Belcourt. I knew she was hosting… I mean, she always does. But I don’t think I realised that _I_ was going to get to meet her! Be so close to her.”

Sebastian, who has been staring daggers at Simon since they sat down, scoffs and says, “God, do you _ever_ stop?” He unfolds his arms to lean forward and continues. “We get it… you’re excited. But this is a competition, not a goddamn fan meet-and-greet. And Camille? She’s a washed up has-been… no, has-been suggests she once was someone. The year  _she_ won was a travesty. Was really suspicious that food poisoning that Lilith came down with… she’d have won hands down.”

Simon instantly falls silent, and the rest of the group around the table don’t know who to look at or what to say. Simon presses his lips together. Oh god, he’s not going to cry, is he? Alec doesn’t want to have to deal with that. Sure, Simon talks a lot, and Alec’s wished for an off switch several times in the past thirty minutes that they’ve known each other, but he’s not doing any harm. And Sebastian is just downright mean. There’s something about him that Alec doesn’t like.

“Anyone want coffee?” Alec asks, trying to move the conversation. “Simon?”

And Simon looks thankful for the excuse to leave the table.

 

-

 

They’re given an hour after the overzealous welcoming speech from Camille, to head to their rooms, check them over, and change for the run through of the dance number.

“No one said there would be  _dancing!_ ” Alec complains into his microphone as he walks down the corridor. Going undercover was just supposed to get him a backstage pass, this is getting entirely out of hand.

“Have you ever even watched this pageant?” Magnus’ voice comes from Alec’s right, and Alec instantly twists to look at him. Something settles in Alec, the unease that’s been gnawing away at him, and his stomach gets tied in knots for entirely different reasons.

“Can I just skip it? I’m in the top five no matter what.”

Alec’s not sure who he’s asking, Jace, Magnus, or the universe in general.

“You need to play the part, Alec. Blend in,” Jace says in his ear.

“Jace, you know I’m a terrible dancer.”

Magnus must sense the panic in him though. He takes Alec’s elbow and pulls him aside, and Alec can feel the heat of Magnus’ touch even through his suit jacket.

“You want the others on your side, right?” Magnus asks and Alec nods. “Then suffer with them. If you don’t sweat with them, if you’re too much of a princess to join, then they’ll endlessly hate on you… and you’ll end up as an outsider.” Magnus pauses, smiles, and then adds. “Plus, with a body like yours… no one will really be taking notice of how good you are at dancing.”

Is that supposed to make Alec feel better? Fine. Alec can sweat. He trains hard, and he’s in good shape. Great shape. It’s just one dance number, it can’t really be that bad, right?

 

-

 

It isn't that bad… it’s worse. As Alec steps out of the shower, he reaches for a towel and his arm sings in pain. He aches all over. He’s sure his body moved in ways it’s not meant to. He wraps the towel around himself and walks out into the room. Alec falls back onto the bed, the soft covers cushioning him, and he stares up at the ceiling. God, he could drift off to sleep just like this. What he wouldn’t give to just sleep for the next forty-eight hours.

He’s just drifting between conscious thought and sleep when a loud rap on the door jolts him fully awake. Maybe if he just lies here whoever’s at the door will just go away. There’s another knock. No such luck. Groaning, Alec pushes himself up off the bed and to the door. Conscious of his lack of clothing, he cracks the door open.

Alec’s greeted by a wide grin and a body vibrating with energy.

“Hey, Artie,” says Simon. “Promise to hear me out before you slam the door closed?”

“Give me a sec?” Alec asks. Whatever conversation they’re about to have Alec would like to have it clothed.

“Um… sure.”

“Great.” Alec shuts the door in Simon’s face.

He grabs a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. He’s still pulling the t-shirt down when he opens the door again, but Simon’s not there. Then Simon suddenly pops back into view.

“Sorry, I thought…” Simon trails off, shakes his head and then holds up a USB drive. “You a Star Wars fan?”

“Yeah.” In fact, Alec loves it.

“You are?” Simons says incredulously. “Wanna watch one? I’ve got popcorn.”

Alec would love to say no and swing the door shut, but he remembers what he’s doing here. His job is to gather intel, to gain people’s trust, and why not do that while watching Star Wars?

“Why not.” Alec pushes the door open and gestures Simon inside.

“Thank god!” Simon exclaims as he walks past Alec and heads straight for the TV. “Everyone else slammed the door in my face as soon as I said Star Wars. Some even before that.”

Simon is different than earlier. He looks young, Alec realises. Dressed in a loose t-shirt and jeans. Alec thinks it’s a better look for him than the suit. It seems more like the real Simon, and Alec struggles to reconcile the man standing in front of him to the Mr Rhode Island he met this morning.

They settle on The Empire Strikes Back as it’s Simon’s favourite and Alec’s inclined to agree.

“The force would be one wicked talent,” Simon says when Yoda explains that his ‘ally is the force, and a powerful ally it is’. “What’s your talent?”

Talent? Oh, for the pageant. Alec’s been giving it a little thought and he’s got a few ideas, but he’s not settled on anything yet. He thinks Magnus will probably have a better idea anyway. He understands this pageant more than Alec.

“Um… I’m not sure.”

“Ah. Keeping it close to the vest. I get it. I bet it’s something cool though.”

Alec chuckles to himself. “Yeah. There’s no way you’d find me up there with some batons, or playing a guitar or something.”

Simon’s uncharacteristically quiet. Fuck.

“Tell me it’s the guitar at least,” Alec tries to joke.

It earns him a smile from Simon and Alec manages to relax a fraction.

“Yeah. Mr Original over here,” Simon says and there’s resignation in his voice.

Alec’s unsure how to make this right. “Do you sing and play?”

“Yeah, both. Mainly covers and normally ballads. Mostly my consultant chooses.”

Alec doesn’t like how Simon is talking about this, as if he doesn’t have any choice in the matter.

“What would you choose?”

“I… write. I’d like to play one of my own, but…”

“But what?”

Simon’s eyes are glued to the TV screen and this is the most hesitant to talk he’s seen Simon so far.

“I’m not sure it’s… right for this competition,” Simon eventually says. Then he points at the TV. “I’m still bitter about Lando’s betrayal.” And Alec gets the hint; the conversation is over with.

Simon talks through the rest of the film. He quotes lines or points out random facts and Alec, surprisingly, enjoys himself.

When Alec shuts the door after Simon leaves, he thinks Simon might just be growing on him.

 

-

 

Alec’s moved past the point of exhaustion and while he would rather be in bed, getting to spend time with Magnus Bane might be the only acceptable alternative. They’ve gone over the schedule for tomorrow’s preliminary round when the subject of the talent section comes up.

“Yeah, Simon asked me about a talent earlier,” Alec says as he tries to find a way to conceal his gun in the form-fitting evening-wear Magnus has picked out for him.

Magnus’ eyes drift down Alec’s body. “I can think of a few... talents,” he teases as his eyes come back to rest on Alec’s lips.

The room suddenly feels ten degrees warmer, or maybe it’s just Alec. “Well, I.. um, was hoping for suggestions.”

The expression on Magnus’ face morphs from playful to stunned, and Alec replays what he just said in his mind and considers how that sounds and... how he’s entirely okay with that. It seems though, that Magnus ‘lives to flirt’ Bane missed that opportunity or dual meaning because he anxiously asks Alec, “You don’t have a talent?”

“Hey, what’s up?” Jace asks as he joins them. The call that’s been occupying the last half an hour must finally over.

Magnus rounds on Jace. “Alexander doesn’t have a talent.”

Jace’s one-word reply of, “Harsh,” earns him an eye roll from Magnus.

“For the pageant,” Magnus clarifies. “He doesn’t have one!”

Jace shrugs. “What’s the issue? Just keep working your magic.”

“I can’t just _teach_ him a talent.” Magnus gestures in Alec’s direction then continues to use his hands to emphasise his next words. “You either have it… or you don’t.”

Jace takes a step closer. “Magnus,” he starts, trying to use his charm. Magnus just crosses his arms, clearly not impressed. “You said you couldn’t have Alec ready in forty-eight hours. You pulled it off. Me and the FBI fully believe in you.”

The charm doesn’t work and the two of them begin a bickering match over Alec as if he’s not standing right there.

“I’ve got one, okay,” Alec finally says.

They both turn to look at him with expectant faces.

Alec’s inclined to look at his feet, but he remembers Magnus’ coaching and keeps his eyes on them. “I was thinking… something with archery?”

It’s silent for a long spell while Magnus considers. “Okay. That could work, but let me think on it… Are you any good?”

Jace whistles and Alec smiles smugly. “Oh… you could say that.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Okay, we can work with this.”

“Right. Now that I’ve put that fire out...” Jace says and Alec scoffs. If Jace did anything he added fuel to the damn fire. “I’ve got someplace to be.”

Alec knows better than to ask, given the phone call and the late hour, Alec can only assume he’s seeing Clary again and Alec’s staying well out of that.

“Are we done? Can I sleep yet?” Alec asks Magnus as Jace leaves.

“A run through of that dance number…” Alec groans. No. Why. “...and we’ll have you safely tucked in.”

Alec resolutely refuses to think about Magnus tucking him in. Maybe he could tuck them in together? Nope. Not thinking about it. There’s a soft click and then the music Alec has come to associate with hell rings out in the room.

Magnus begins to move, his limbs flowing from one step to the next with a fluidity even the instructor hadn’t possessed. Alec can’t even hope to be a tenth as good as Magnus. He forgets to catalogue the way Magnus performs and simply gets drawn into the elegant way Magnus’ body is moving.

He’s so entranced by Magnus that he’s surprised when the music ends and Magnus turns to him and says, “Okay, your turn.”

“I… um.”

Alec doesn’t know how to explain that there’s no way he can recreate whatever that was, so he just steps hesitantly forward. The music starts and Magnus stretches an arm up, he bends it at the elbow and he scratches at the back of his neck, and Alec’s brain checks out at the way his chest is pushed forward, and the muscles strain against his t-shirt.

“It starts on the third count,” Magnus explains.

“What?”

“The third count. We start with a simple reverse turn.”

Magnus restarts the music and steps forward until he’s directly in front of Alec, counting, “One, two, three.”

As he says ‘three’ he circles the finger he’s holding up and Alec finally remembers. Dancing. He twists and in his haste to not miss the beat he loses his balance, tripping over his feet. Fingers grip his biceps, steadying him, and Magnus is right there. His face so close to Alec’s, that for a minute they breathe the same air and simply look at each other. Then Magnus’ gaze drops to Alec’s lips before flicking back up to Alec’s eyes and Alec’s dick twitches in his trousers. His heart’s racing and his mouth waters. He can smell Magnus, that sandalwood aftershave that’s been driving Alec crazy for the past two days.

Alec could just lean down and kiss Magnus. It would be good. Fuck. It would be goddamn amazing, Alec can tell. But Magnus lifts a hand to Alec’s shoulder, the movement breaking the trance Alec’s being held in, and Alec abruptly steps back before Magnus can touch him.

This is a job, he reminds himself, and Magnus is a consultant.

“Start it again,” Alec requests, and though he doesn’t lower his gaze, he can’t bring himself to look Magnus in the eye. If he did, he’d see the disappointment of an opportunity lost.


	4. Chapter 4

Alec’s nervous, which makes no sense because he’s not really part of this contest. Plus, there’s no reason for nerves anyway, he could shoot an arrow with his eyes closed. Which is actually close to what he and Magnus came up with for his talent, but in this case, it’s with a blindfold.

“I’m not sure how exciting it will be,” Alec admits as he pulls on the archery clothing Magnus has managed to produce out of nowhere.

Magnus adjusts the material of Alec’s jacket at the shoulders, before smoothing his hands down over Alec’s arms. “It’ll be exciting, trust me. Getting to watch these muscles ripple…” He gives Alec’s biceps a gentle squeeze for effect. “...the audience will go wild.”

“This is so superficial,” Alec grumbles, but he wonders if Magnus is including himself when he uses the word ‘audience’. Alec wouldn’t mind showing off a little bit for him.

“Hmm.” Magnus steps back and assesses Alec. “Just a little balm for those pretty lips. I’ll be right back.”

Alec stands in the backstage area and observes his surroundings. He keeps forgetting - when Magnus is around - that he needs to focus. He can’t allow himself to let his guard drop. He’s on the hunt for a bomber, and he can’t afford another fuck up.

“Morning,” Simon says, and comes to stand next to him.

As Alec greets him, Sebastian, Bat and Jordan all walk over.

“You ask him,” Bat prompts.

Sebastian sneers at Alec. “Saw a blonde drop by your room last night. You realise there’s a curfew, right?”

Alec snorts. Him and Jace? No way. Sure, when he first met Jace he thought he was handsome, and there might have been a question of attraction, but now. Jace is like a brother to him.

“He’s just a friend,” Alec explains.

Jordan nudges Alec with an elbow. “And Magnus Bane? I caught the two of you out for an… early morning stroll.”

Alec finds it a little more difficult to deny his attraction there. “He’s… um. He’s my consultant, you know. We were just going over some details.”

“Details? Hmm… sure,” Seb jibes.

But Alec’s still remembering last night, the way Magnus had insisted on walking him back to his hotel room, despite Alec’s protest that ‘he’s an FBI agent and can look after himself’. The whole journey Alec wondered if Magnus was trying to continue their ‘almost moment’ from earlier, but he was a perfect gentleman. He saw Alec to the door, waited while Alec swiped the card and went in. Alec had contemplated just saying ‘fuck it’ and inviting Magnus in, but Magnus said ‘Goodnight, Alexander’ and left.

“You hitting that?” Jordan asks, pulling Alec from the memory and Alec really fucking hates that question.

“No.”

“But you want to be… I’ll bet.” Jordan laughs. “Doubt you’re the only one.”

“Well, I wouldn’t get too close to Magnus Bane… you wouldn’t want to pick up some of his less than savoury habits.” And on that cryptic sentence, Seb turns and walks away, the group move off again too, probably to the next point of gossip.

“What was all that?” Alec asks when it’s just him and Simon.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Oh, well. Maybe it’s not my place to say it.”

Alec’s becoming frustrated. “Just tell me.”

“Okay.” Simon lowers his voice to a hushed whisper and leans conspiratively close. “Magnus used to be Camille’s pageant consultant. He was her consultant the year she won and they were more than just co-workers… they were dating. Was pretty serious from what everyone could tell. Then she dumped him, at least, that’s what the papers said. It was right in the middle of a contest. He had a new contestant, and Camille destroyed him in the press. Rumours of Magnus cheating, of him pushing her to breaking point.”

“Seriously?” Alec hates Camille even more.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure of the details. Hey, Charlie,” Simon calls out, and he walks away from Alec.

Magnus as a cheat? He can see it from Camille. But Magnus has been the one saying that he should get through on his own merit, pushing him even though Alec’s automatically through. It’s not proof of Magnus’ innocence but it speaks of Magnus’ character. At least, Alec thinks it does.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks as he steps close to Alec.

“Hmm? Yeah, was just thinking.”

As Magnus uses a finger to spread the balm across Alec’s lips, Alec resolves to find a spare moment to call Izzy and find out everything she knows about what happened between Magnus and Camille.

 

- 

 

Central Park is packed, more than Alec ever considered. He stands in the wings of the stage and contemplates what a fucking logistical nightmare this is to coordinate patrols. They don’t have enough feet on the ground to deal with something this big. Alec takes a deep breath, just keep watching, he tells himself. At least the area in front of the stage is seated. It makes it easier for Alec to notice the comings and goings of spectators.

A guitar strums on the stage and Alec recognises the tune but can’t put his finger on the song. Simon’s voice, clear and steady, sings out ‘ _From underneath the trees, we watch the sky confusing stars for satellites_ ’. Simon’s voice is good, great, but Alec didn’t peg him for a Nickelback fan and this is some weird acoustic rendition. There’s feeling in the way Simon’s singing though and when Alec looks back out into the crowd he notices the way the judges are nodding their heads and whispering to each other.

It’s a clever song, Alec thinks, not one you’d hear too often at something like this, but still with a clear message. It’s like Alec’s hearing the words for the first time. ‘ _And as we lie beneath the stars, we realise how small we are. If they could love like you and me imagine what the world could be.'_

Simon’s followed by a string of boring, with some weird thrown into the mix. There’re dance numbers, balloon animals, magic, a mime, and unfortunately a clown. Jace keeps a running commentary in Alec’s ear throughout. Is Alec the only one taking this operation seriously?

Magnus abandoned him at the start of it all, something about scouting out the competition, and though Alec would rather have Magnus here, it’s a good thing he guesses. At least he can concentrate on something other than Magnus.

The sixth interpretive dance number is just wrapping up when Alec sees it. There’s a holdall just lying on the grass and there’s a man stepping away. Alec waits a beat, maybe he’s coming back. Shit, he’s not.

“I’ve got an abandoned holdall to the west of the stage,” Alec says and Jace instantly stops degrading the current performer. Alec would like to see Jace try to do a fucking pirouette without falling on his face. “About ten rows back, by the path. There’s a man leaving. I’m pursuing.”

“Alec, hold your position. Let Starkweather intercept.”

But Alec’s already moving, hastily descending the stairs of the stage. “He’s too far out. I’m closest.”

Jace swears in his ear, but Alec just jogs down the line of chairs and heads for the path. For a moment he thinks he’s lost sight of the suspect, but then he sees the red baseball cap. Alec slows his pace as he nears the man, so as not to spook him.

Then the suspect pulls his phone from his pocket. Fuck. One call and he could trigger a bomb.

“He’s got a phone. I can’t let him make a call,” Alec says.

“Wait,” Jace’s breath is coming in pants down his ear. “I’m almost there.”

The man’s typing and Alec makes a split second decision. He pushes himself forward, arms closing around the man as he tackles him, sending both of them to the floor. Alec wrestles the phone from his hand and flings it away from them.

“What the… Get off me, man. Are you crazy?” the guy says as he struggles in Alec’s grip, but Alec relaxes when he hears pounding feet on the concrete and looks up to see Jace running towards them.

“False alarm,” Alec hears Clary say in his ear. “Someone just picked up the bag. It’s just gym gear.”

Fuck. Alec pushes back and stands and holds out a hand to the man.

“I’m sor-”

The guy slaps it away and gets to his feet.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jace asks the guy as if he’s just a concerned citizen and Jace shakes his head at Alec and mouths back off, when Alec tries to help. It’s only then that Alec notices the woman by the bench who’s videoing the whole thing on her phone. Shit. Shitshitshit.

“And next up, we have Mr New Jersey,” echoes out through the park.

Perfect, now, on top of everything else he’s missing his spot on stage.

 

-

 

Alec sits in his chair and picks at his nail. He’s been here for at least thirty minutes, and he’s had to listen to Camille insult him, and neither Jace nor Assistant Director Herondale have stood up for him.

“I was under the impression you had  _competent_ staff, given that you’re the FBI,” Camille says.

Alec can’t be silent any longer. “It was a valid-”

“Our apologies,” Herondale interrupts and Alec slouches in his chair. “I assure you that this won’t happen again.”

Camille turns her computer screen, and Alec recognises the video. She hits play and he has to watch himself fly through the air, tackling the suspect. It’s an awesome tackle and everyone would’ve praised him for it if the guy had been The Circle.

“I’m finding it difficult to justify how a contestant that tackles an innocent man to the ground makes it into the top ten, nevermind the top five.”

This is just Camille grandstanding. That fucking powerplay of hers at work again.

“We understand. Please, rest assured that the issue will be dealt with.”

Alec’s the issue. Herondale’s going to deal with him. Alec’s only saving grace is that they can’t switch him out mid-competition, so he’s got his job until the end of the pageant at least.

Camille’s eyes rest on Alec. “See that it is.”

Her words are a dismissal and Jace and the assistant director step out of the room first. Camille stands by the door her hand gripping Alec’s arm to halt his movement. Her voice is venomous when she speaks and any air of civility is gone.

“I knew you weren’t Mr United States material the moment I met you.”

Alec’s about to tell her how he doesn’t want to be part of this stupid thing anyway, but she steps closer and keeps talking.

“Put another step out of place and I _will_ bury you… Mess up this pageant and a few choice conversations from me and your career will be over.”

Alec can ruin his career all by himself, he doesn’t need anyone’s help.

“I thought it was a scholarship programme…” Alec says, and he takes great delight in the flash of annoyance in her eyes before he walks away. Fuck… he’s angry.

Jace and Herondale are at the end of the corridor, but when Alec approaches the assistant director gives him a disgusted look and walks off. Brilliant.

“Perfect.” Shit. Jace is frustrated.

“Jace. I’m sorry, but it was a valid threat. I couldn’t just _let_ it happen.”

Jace shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says, but it’s clearly not. “Can you just listen to me and let handle things from here though?”

Alec nods and stops himself from pointing out that without him they’d all still be sat at Jace’s desk trying to figure out how to handle the operation.

Jace starts walking and Alec falls into step beside him. “We got a break on the letter.”

“We did?”

“Yeah. Turns out there was DNA on the envelope. Saliva. It’s a woman’s.”

Alec pushes the front door open and steps out onto the sidewalk. “That breaks pattern… and all our profiling.”

Jace companionably nudges him with his shoulder. “Geez, at least try to look a little happy, man. A break is a break.”

“Sure.” But something about it feels off to Alec.

 

-

 

Alec’s anger from the meeting and Camille’s threat stays with him through the rest of the day. He was justified in his actions. Should he really have just let the situation play out and hoped it wasn’t a bomb? It’s great that it wasn’t, but Alec couldn’t take that chance. He keeps telling himself that, over and over.

To make matters worse, he’s got another late night training session with Magnus.

“Back straight,” Magnus instructs.

Alec huffs in frustration but complies. Is he really being instructed on how to fucking sit right now?

Magnus takes the seat next to Alec. “I’ll ask a few questions that are likely to come up in the interview. First up is ‘ _Tell me about a time when you felt unworthy and how you overcame it_ ’.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Well I showed up to an event  _completely_ underdressed,” he begins, and manages to deliver the line with a straight face.

“Alec,” Magnus warns.

“What?”

Magnus sighs. “Let’s just try another. ‘ _Sexual assault is an issue at universities across the United States. What do you believe can be done to better protect women on college campuses?’_ ”

“What I think you mean is ‘what can be done to better protect _people_ on college campuses’.”

“Well, yes.” Magnus actually looks apologetic. “I was just reading last year’s questions. But that’s not the point. Are you going to say the same thing to the interviewer if they ask this?”

Alec just nods. Of course he would.

Magnus shakes his head. “You need to connect with the audience and the judges. To do that you’re going to have to show them something real. Something beneath all this snark and disapproval.”

“I’m playing a role, that’s all.”

Alec’s annoyed by the disappointment he sees in Magnus’ eyes. It makes him feel like shit. “Would you take this seriously for just five minutes?”

“What does it matter? Top five remember.” Alec knows he’s being purposefully obtuse, but he can’t find it in himself to give a fuck. What’s the point in trying when everything you do just makes things worse?

“Top five isn’t first place.”

Alec chuckles without humour. “God, I _don’t_ want to win.”

“Don’t you have any pride?”

Alec’s got a lot of pride, and if this was really anything other than a contest based on who’s deemed the most handsome then maybe he’d take it seriously.

“I’m an FBI Agent, what do I care about some beauty pageant?”

Alec hopes that’s the end of it, but Magnus keeps pushing him. “You’re also a human being. Do you even have a life outside of the FBI? Or do you just have sarcasm and a gun as stand-ins for friends and relationships? They’re a piss poor replacement.”

“I don’t have relationships because I don’t want one… and who has time for friends when they work 24/7? That’s the job.” People outside of the Bureau don’t understand what it’s like.

“And that’s all you are? The job?”

That anger that’s been simmering suddenly boils over. Alec’s off his chair and pacing and then he turns to Magnus and spits, “Do you think it’s easy being a gay man in the FBI? I have to work twice as hard as everyone else. And even then I’m looked down on.”

Magnus patiently sits and listens while Alec talks and why is that so infuriating?

“So you sacrifice everything else?” Magnus shakes his head. “That’s no way to live, Alexander.”

What gives Magnus the right to judge him? Alec’s so caught up in his anger and the way Magnus’ words are making him feel sick that he doesn’t consider before he speaks. “Who are you to tell me how to live? You don’t know me, or my life. At least I’m not living in the past, dreaming about my glory days.”

The eyes that are always so warm to Alec flash with hurt and then turn cold. Alec instantly wants to take the words back.

“Is that what happens when things get personal? You have to lash out at those trying to help you?”

Why can’t Magnus just leave it alone? Alec’s hands shake with his emotions, he balls them into fists at his side and turns away. “We’re done.”

Alec doesn’t care for Magnus’ condescending tone when he says, “We’ve got three more questions.” It’s that same one he uses on Camille.

“We’re finished. Fuck your questions.” Alec walks away, and with every step he wonders what the fuck just happened. Alec’s got a pretty even temper, but he just lost it, and he’s still seething as he leaves because deep down he knows everything Magnus just said about him is true.

Alec pulls his phone from his pocket and dials the number of the one person he knows won’t ever turn on him.

“I’m quitting,” he says as soon as Izzy picks up. “Jace chose the wrong guy. I mean… he only picked me because I’m gay and he thinks it’s some prerequisite for this stupid pretentious thing. Fuck… why did I think I could do this?”

Isabelle’s voice is concerned as she tells Alec, “Hey, breathe.”

Alec slams into his hotel room. “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with you…” Alec scoffs at her words. “...There  _isn’t!_ Slow down and tell me what happened.”

There’s no way Isabelle hasn’t already seen his fuck up. “Don’t pretend you haven’t seen it.”

“I’ve seen it. But that wouldn’t usually stop you from doing the right thing or have you this worked up. You don’t quit, never have. So, what happened?”

Alec falls back onto the bed and squeezes his eyes shut. “I have a life, right?”

“Alec?”

“It’s just…” Alec tries to find the words to explain how he feels. “I’ve worked all my life for this, to be part of the FBI, and… I just feel like I’m fucking it all up. No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. And I don’t have anything but this job… What happens if they fire me? Like, actually fire me… what do I have then?”

Alec’s breath heaves from the way the words just rush from his lips. He’s struggling to draw in air, god, he hates feeling like this.

“Okay. Firstly, you’re not getting fired.”

“I’m pretty sure-”

“No. You’re not getting fired so don’t even think of doing that ‘quitting before you fail’ thing.” Isabelle’s voice doesn’t waver. She’s filled with conviction and Alec kind of wants to believe her. “Secondly, you’re more than a job. You have family that you adore and take care of. If they fire you - which I say again, isn’t going to happen - you’ve got me.”

He does. No matter what Izzy is always his constant - isn’t that why he called her? “You’re right.”

“You sound surprised,” she teases.

“Okay… um, meltdown over… Now I need all the gossip you’ve got on Magnus Bane and Camille Belcourt.”

She’s silent for a moment.

“You’ve heard of them, right?”

“Have I heard of them?! Alec, seriously? I was trying to calculate if you had enough hours left in the day to get through that nightmare of a relationship, and the scandal that resulted in their breakup.”

Alec’s got all the time in the world for this story, and he settles back against the pillows ready for however long it takes.


	5. Chapter 5

“I look ridiculous,” Alec murmurs to himself, eyes trained to his reflection in the mirror. He almost doesn’t recognise himself, his chest devoid of the hair that’s been there since he had his first growth spurt. His pecs glisten with oil, which only adds to how ridiculous he feels. And then there’s what he’s wearing, although what he’s  _not_ wearing might be a better choice of words. Alec tries to adjust himself in the two-sizes-too-small trunks. Honestly, it’s indecent, he might as well be standing here naked.

“Ridiculous is not the word _I_ would have used,” Magnus’ breath tingles against Alec’s ear making him involuntarily shudder into the contact. Magnus’ voice is always so smooth and confident and, when directed at Alec, laced with a level of innuendo Alec finds astounding. Neither of them apologised for last night. It’s like they’re both pretending it never happened, and honestly, Alec’s fine with that.

“Magnificent, maybe,” Magnus continues as their eyes catch in the mirror and Alec, Alec’s heart is beating wildly in his chest, and his breath, it feels like it’s trapped somewhere inside his rib cage. “Salivatingly so.”

Alec curses the blush that blooms across his cheeks at the statement. How does Magnus manage to work him up this way with nothing more than simple words? He’s an FBI agent for fuck’s sake, not a horny fifteen-year-old. He should be able to handle a little flirting. He should be able to handle one pageant consultant.

“I couldn’t have had something with just a little more material?” Alec grumbles, once again trying to pull the swimsuit into a more comfortable position. It’s stretchy and each time Alec pulls at it, he hopes to god it somehow doubles in size, but no, it just shrinks back to its original size. Alec wouldn’t put it past Magnus to have slipped the organisers a little something in order for Alec to be chosen to wear this indecent scrap of material. Whoever decided this qualifies as clothing needs new guidelines.

“And deny the public the chance to view your finer attributes?” Magnus, who is still standing behind Alec, allows his eyes to drift down Alec’s body in the mirror as he says the words, finishing the sentence with an appreciative hum.

“I guess you don’t need this extra padding,” he says, eyes snapping back to Alec’s and Magnus winks, throwing the material he was holding onto a nearby table.

Alec gulps audibly. Inhale. Exhale. He tells himself. He really cannot afford to get turned-on by Magnus right now. But he’s lost in the connection their eyes have made in the mirror and his skin is starting to tingle with just the idea of touch. The FBI should really give him a medal when this is all over, for the level of self-control that is needed to deal with Magnus Bane.

Then Magnus’ hand is on his butt and, hello, that’s unexpected, but still a little welcome. What’s not welcome, however, is the can Magnus shakes and sprays on to Alec’s skin and, yes, the moment is definitely broken.

“Hey-” Alec exclaims, jerking out of the touch and swatting Magnus away. “What are you doing?”

Magnus holds his hands up in innocence, before showing the can to Alec.

“Hairspray,” he tells Alec, a smirk playing on his lips. “It stops it riding up.”

“Riding up where?” Alec asks before he can stop himself and he curses the smug grin that Magnus levels at him, a look of, ‘do you really want me to answer that’ in his eyes.

And right there and then Alec prays that the ground will open and just swallow him whole. He takes one more look at himself in the mirror as Magnus pushes him along with the rest on the contestants.

This is honestly a disaster, his breath is becoming more and more choppy the closer he gets to the stage and his hands are beginning to shake. He can’t do this.

“Hey,” Magnus says, voice gentle, as he runs a hand down Alec’s arm in comfort. Though the gesture is sweet, it’s really not helping Alec calm down “Just imagine you’re at the beach.”

“I don’t go to the beach,” Alec says before he can stop himself, and he can feel Magnus rolling his eyes behind him.

“Why am I not surprised?” he huffs out and he turns Alec to face him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Trust me.”

And though the words are said with an obscene smirk Alec hears the truth behind them, and more than that, he thinks he might just trust Magnus. That is a terrifying prospect.

Magnus pushes him forward and Alec steps out onto the stage. He stalls for a second. He can do this, he tells himself and he follows Mr New Hampshire. He remembers to walk the way Magnus taught him - using his hips, and he’s surprised by the roar of the crowd as he reaches the front of the stage.

He’s not sure how he feels being on display like this, and as Mr New Mexico catches up with him, Alec wonders why he couldn’t have had those shorts instead. Alec keeps walking, across the front of the stage and comes to stop with the group he was assigned. He looks at the other contestants now, and why don’t  _any_ of them have these tiny shorts like he does?

It’s all a weird sort of blur. Jace whistles down his ear, then tells him to smile and Alec somehow manages to get through it.

  


-

 

Alec makes it through the rest of the swimwear and interview rounds and is glad to finally arrive back at the hotel. Why does no one value sleep here? No doubt, Magnus is going to pop up with another endless list of things to go over with Alec. Magnus is awesome, and pretty, and so goddamn distracting, but he makes Alec think about things he hasn’t allowed himself in a long time. He could do with a little distance.

“Got a lead.” Jace pops up from nowhere. Shows how tired Alec is feeling that he’s letting _Jace_ get the drop on him.

Alec just nods.

“Simon Lewis,” Jace starts.

“Wait, you’re telling me your lead is king of the nerds Simon?” What’s Jace been drinking?

“We ran the contestants, okay. This is what came back. ‘S not my fault.”

They continue down the corridor to Alec’s room.

“All of them?” Alec can’t believe Simon was the only one that flagged something up.

“Couple of sealed records. Herondale’s trying to wade through the red tape to get us the info. But so far, this,” Jace waves the file in front of Alec’s face. “This is all we’ve got to go on.”

Alec snatches it from his grasp and begins to read as Jace walks him through it.

“Was involved in this anti-lgbt+ protest back in 2013, got arrested for assault and criminal damage.”

“He was part of the protest?” That doesn’t seem right to Alec, somehow. The file is sparse and Alec searches for the interview transcript.  “Where’s the interview?” Alec asks when he can’t find it.

“There’s no record of it.”

Alec’s looks up from the file… that’s unusual. “As in, it wasn’t taped or the record went missing?”

Jace shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you.”

“And the charges were dropped?”

“Yeah,” Jace says. “Real quickly, but the arrest remains on file.”

This smells like a coverup or a dirty cop to Alec. The question is which? And whether that makes Simon Lewis want to blow up a beauty pageant. Alec shakes his head. Simon’s so excited about this damn thing, it’s like it’s his lifelong dream or some shit. But Alec knows appearances can be deceiving and he doesn’t like leaving loose ends.

“Okay, I’ll look into it. But do you _really_ think Simon is our guy?”

Jace smiles at him. “Not in the slightest.”

 

**-**

 

After a shower and twenty minutes of silence, Alec’s feeling a lot more human. This place, this competition is getting under his skin. And maybe that’s only been helped by the fact that there’s been nothing to go on, that he’s just been sitting here, playing at being Mr New Jersey. But now they have something… sure it’s slim, but it’s  _something._ Alec can just push everything else away and focus on the job. And right now the job is Simon.

Alec stops by Simon’s room but there’s no answer when he knocks. He’s about to check the conference rooms they’ve been allocated for practice when Alec spots Simon in the foyer. Well, here goes nothing.

“You a pac-man, pong or donkey kong fan?” Alec asks him.

Simon looks confused for a minute before answering. “Always sorta had a thing for centipede… it was weirdly addictive.”

Alec gets that, he spent many an afternoon playing and playing, trying to beat RDE’s high score. He never did find out who RDE was or beat their score for that matter. Alec’s glad that his hunch of Simon having a thing for arcade games pays off though. Given Simon’s age, Alec wasn’t sure if he should have been shooting for something this century, but Alec gets the feeling Simon enjoys the classics.

“There’s this arcade place, wondered if you wanted to go?”

Simon hesitates, eyes drifting to the elevator. “I’m not sure… Eddie, my consultant… he um, he wasn’t happy with the interview section. Wanted to go over some things.”

“Ugh… consultants. The bane of our existence, right?”

Simon laughs. “You lucked out with Magnus, though. He’s not as much of a slave driver as the others.”

Really? It can be worse than this?

“So let off a little steam,” Alec suggests. “There’s beer and pizza a-”

“Did someone say beer and pizza?” Charlie asks, joining their group. “I’ve been trying to get a slice of real New York pizza since I got here.”

Alec considers. He was hoping to just get Simon on his own, but maybe this could work out for the better. “Yeah, there’s this arcade place. Beer on tap. Authentic New York pizza.” He probably shouldn’t really take them there. Though, he’s been there a few times on the job. The barman knows not to call him by name anymore.

“Hey, Bat. Pizza?” Charlie calls across the foyer. Bat, Sebastian and Jordan all nod, and suddenly it’s become a group thing.

Alec turns back to Simon. “You in?”

Alec sees hesitation on Simon's face, but eventually, he relents. “...yeah. Why not.”

 

-

 

Alec’s gotten good at nursing a beer, but the rest of the group are all a little worse for wear. They've surprised him. Over beer, Alec’s learnt that this group have substance. Far more than Alec ever considered. Charlie’s training to be a doctor and Sebastian is doing an engineering degree. Jordan is constantly making him laugh and Alec likes the way Simon and Jordan have developed a friendship. Bat’s quiet, mostly. But they’ve managed to draw him out of his shell.

They’ve splintered off into smaller groups. Charlie, Bat and Jordan have started a competition over mortal kombat and Sebastian is warring against the AI of Lethal Enforcers 3. Seb punches a hand against the screen as he’s killed again. Alec gets being into a game, but Seb is weirdly aggressive right now. Alec puts it down to his age. Alec’s sure he was filled with rage at twenty-two as well.

“Geez, Sebastian’s gonna get chucked out or… arrested or something if he keeps on,” Simon says, a slight slur to his words. Alec’s cutting him off right about now.

“No one wants to get arrested on this side of town,” Alec replies.

“No one wants to get arrested, _period._ ”

Alec sees his opportunity and takes it. “Got personal experience?”

Simon nods and looks down at his empty glass in confusion. As if he doesn’t understand what’s happened to the rest of his beer. It makes Alec smile. Simon’s kind of a dopey drunk, and it’s surprisingly endearing.

“Got arrested a few years back.”

“Shit,” Alec acts surprised. Mostly he doesn’t mind lying to people to get information, but sometimes, with people that he feels don’t really deserve it, it makes him feel a little guilty. “What for?”

“Was at this stupid anti-LGBT+ rally. I’m not anti-LGBT+ by the way… I’m, like, very much pro. _So_ much pro... especially given that I’m pansexual.”

Simon’s rambling a little but Alec lets him continue, he knows when to push and when to let a suspect - shit, he doesn’t want to think of Simon as a suspect. When an interviewee will tell him what he needs to know freely.

“Got dragged there by my douchebag friend… who I assure you, _isn’t_ a friend, but  _is_ still a douchebag. He started spouting some crap and I just lost my shit. We got into this, like, massive fight, broke a car window, I broke his stupid goddamn nose and then got arrested.”

“I’m sorry, Simon.”

“That wasn’t the worst bit.”

This is where Alec has to push, even if he’s not all that comfortable making Simon talk about this. “It wasn’t?”

“My ‘friend’ was screaming at me when they arrested us, said how he didn’t realise I was a ‘dirty fucking queer’ and then proceeded to tell the cops how I’d come onto him and he was just defending himself.”

“Shit.”

“Fuck, I was scared. They didn’t process me right away, not properly. Didn’t get my phone call. Just left me in this cell.”

The more Simon explains the less Alec’s thinking terrorist and more victim.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” Alec assures him. He’s gotten what he needs, and he feels like a fucking snake for doing it.

“It’s cool… Mostly over it. Charges got dropped… and well..” Simon smiles at Alec. “It’s a fun story to tell.”

Fun.. yeah, sure. Simon’s too well adjusted for Alec to cope with.

“Plus, it kinda made me realise that I gotta be me. I know I talk too much, and say the wrong things. But what’s the point, you know, of being someone else, of not going for what you want. And then Mr United States got announced and I was like, this is it, I’ve gotta go for it… gotta just try.”

Alec’s never really thought about things like that. He spends so much of his life focused on work, being undercover, being someone else. He wonders what it’s like to want to be yourself…

“Fuck… Eddie’s gon’ kill me,” Simon groans.

Alec laughs. “But will it be worth it?”

“Beer and the arcade? Definitely.”

That makes Alec feel marginally better about his underhanded tactics.

 

-

 

There’s a tension in Alec for the rest of the evening, a restlessness and a need caused by Simon’s words. _But what’s the point, you know, of being someone else, of not going for what you want._ So when he’s put Simon to bed and Alec finds himself walking past Magnus’ hotel room, he tells himself he’s going to knock because he wants to apologise for his outburst the day before. But really… it’s nothing to do with that. It’s to do with going after something  _he_ wants. Magnus... and to feel something. There's been this attraction between them since they first met, and with the endless flirtations, Magnus has made his intentions perfectly clear. So why has Alec been fighting this? Why can’t he just have something for himself for a change? Not for a mission, not because it’s the right thing, just because he selfishly wants.

He knocks. And he worries, but then Magnus swings the door open and he’s standing there, face bare, in a simple t-shirt and sweats and Alec doesn't think he’s ever seen anything as hot.

“Alexander?” Magnus asks as Alec steps closer. Alec suddenly doesn’t want to talk. He keeps his eyes on Magnus’ searching for any sign that he’s uncomfortable, and he sees the moment understanding dawns. Magnus licks his lips, eyes darting to Alec’s mouth and then back up.

Alec closes the space between them, pressing their lips together. He kisses Magnus, firm and insistent, runs his fingers through Magnus’ hair, and Magnus steps back dragging Alec into the room with him, their mouths never parting. It’s Magnus that takes control, turning Alec until the back of his thighs hit the bed and Alec groans his approval when Magnus deepens the kiss.

Then Magnus’ lips are gone, and Alec has to hold back a whine of frustration. He opens his eyes to a smug smile on Magnus’ face. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Magnus pushes Alec back, tumbling Alec onto the bed.

Alec lies there, propped up on his elbows and just looks at Magnus, at the way his hair is mused from Alec’s fingers. He’s never seen Magnus’ eyes without makeup, but he takes them in now as they observe him, the deep brown that looks so open and hopeful.

“Fuck me,” Alec requests as they gaze at each other.

Magnus kneels on the bed. “This is a bad idea.”

Magnus settles himself over Alec.

“Is that… ah… a ‘no’?” Magnus grinds his body down, making Alec moan at the pressure against his dick, and he’s getting harder by the minute. Alec really hopes it’s not a ‘no’. The fingers that are unbuttoning Alec’s shirt don’t scream ‘no’.

“No. I want this…” Magnus kisses Alec again. “...you. But… it’s still a bad idea.”

Maybe it is, but Alec doesn’t care and as Magnus slides the shirt over Alec’s shoulders, Alec realises Magnus doesn’t either. Their groins press close together as Magnus settles himself in Alec’s lap, and Alec sits up to wrap his arms around Magnus, to kiss that fucking tempting mouth of his.

There are fingers in Alec’s hair, tugging, dragging him closer despite the fact that there’s no space left between them. Magnus tilts Alec’s head away from him and those lips are gone from Alec’s again. Alec would complain but Magnus presses them to his jaw, his neck, then they settle on Alec’s collarbone and Magnus roughly sucks the skin into his mouth. Alec’s hips jerk at the sensation, and he lets out a breathless groan.

Alec’s hands scramble to find the hem of Magnus’ t-shirt. _Clothes off. Skin._ Is all Alec can think about and Magnus pulls back to help Alec get the t-shirt off. The tight neck gets stuck as they pull at it causing both of them to laugh, but Alec’s laughter dies out when he gets a look at Magnus’ body, his chest, those biceps, and those too-impressive-to-be-real abs. He runs his fingers over them just to check they are and Magnus sucks in a breath at the touch.

Magnus’ lips are suddenly on Alec’s again, and the force with which he moves has Alec falling back into the covers. Magnus just chuckles into the kiss as his body presses Alec down into the mattress.

Alec wonders why the fuck he considered not letting himself have this. Was he fucking crazy?

He slides his hands over Magnus’ toned back, down to the waistband of his sweats and when he pushes the material down over the curve of Magnus’ ass, his fingers only find skin.

“Fuck, Magnus,” Alec says, and the words are muffled against Magnus’ lips.

Magnus pulls back, taking those lips with him, and he really needs to stop fucking doing that. Though, it’s possibly acceptable because Magnus is pushing the sweats down his thighs and Alec’s mouth waters as Magnus’ thick cock comes into view. Magnus’ cock shifts as he steps out of the sweats and crawls over the bed towards Alec and Alec suddenly feels the need to have it inside him like a physical ache. When Alec manages to pull his eyes back to Magnus’ face, Magnus has still got that smug look on his face, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Alec right now.

Alec reaches to unbutton his own trousers, but Magnus bats Alec’s hands away. He teases as he unfastens the buttons, the backs of his fingers casually grazing Alec’s dick through the material. Alec’s almost panting by the time they’re undone and Magnus hasn’t even gotten him naked yet. Alec lifts his hips to make it easier for Magnus to strip his trousers and boxers off in one go. Alec’s hard, really fucking hard, and his cock rests against his abdomen.

Magnus hums in approval, looking at Alec’s cock with eyes dark with want and biting his lip. Alec struggles not to squirm under Magnus’ gaze. Then Magnus takes Alec’s cock in hand, and strokes him a few times. Each stroke has a different grip, a different speed, and  _fuck_ , how is this so good? Magnus’ eyes are still riveted to Alec’s cock and when Alec sees Magnus purposefully lick his lips, he has to press his head back into the pillows to stop himself from thrusting up into that grip.

Magnus doesn’t stroke him that much longer, which is good because it’s becoming a little uncomfortable without lube, and he doesn’t have the willpower to ask Magnus to stop. Magnus lets go of Alec’s cock and moves over, leaning down to steal his breath with another kiss. Alec feels Magnus’ body strain, reaching for something and Alec hears a drawer open. When they break apart Magnus is holding a condom and a few packets of lube. _Fuck_ , they’re doing this.

“I can-” Alec reaches for one of the packets. The sooner he preps himself the sooner he can have Magnus dick inside of him. But Magnus just pulls his hand out of reach.

“Let me?”

Yes. _Hell_ to the yes. Because Magnus’ fingers will no doubt feel better than Alec’s own.

“Sure,” Alec agrees, and he rolls onto his stomach.

Magnus takes his time opening Alec up. A lot of lube and what feels like hours later, Magnus has four fingers buried in Alec’s ass. Alec’s begun to roll his hips against the bed, those fingers of Magnus’ are so goddamn teasing, constantly brushing over Alec’s prostate, but never giving him the pressure he needs.

Alec feels bereft almost when Magnus pulls them free, but he hopes this means he’s getting Magnus’ cock soon.

“How do you want me?” Alec asks Magnus when he hears the condom packet being opened. He gets onto his knees, that’s probably the easiest way to do this. But Magnus’ hands are on his hips guiding him onto his side. Magnus bends Alec’s leg at the knee, and pushes it up to his chest.

“Yeah… like that,” Magnus says once he’s satisfied with the position. Alec just watches as Magnus rolls the condom down his cock and slicks himself up, and the anticipation is almost too much. It’s like Magnus takes his time on purpose… wait. Of course, he fucking does.

“Come on, Magnus,” Alec eventually groans.

Magnus just gives another chuckle, but he’s moving closer to Alec. Then his cock is right there. Pushing at Alec’s rim and despite the prep, Magnus’ cock stretches Alec further as it slips past that tight ring of muscle. Alec grunts as his body tries to adjust to the sudden fullness.

“Breathe,” Magnus says, voice deep and affected, and Alec does. He takes long, deep, steadying breaths and as Alec wills his body to relax, Magnus slowly pushes himself further inside of Alec.

The pace is agonisingly slow, not at all what Alec anticipated. He wants fast, hard, and done.

“ _Please…”_ Alec begs, needing something more. And then Magnus begins to move faster. Harder. Magnus pushes Alec’s leg closer to his chest and  _fuck…_ that feels good. The angle Magnus has is making his dick brush against Alec’s prostate with each thrust. God, if it feels like  _this,_ why doesn’t he do this more often?

Alec turns his head into the pillow, whining, on a particularly hard thrust. But Magnus’ fingers are at Alec’s jaw, urging him to look back at Magnus. And Alec remembers why he doesn’t do this very often; this intimacy, this connection, the way it feels like Magnus can see all of him, is just a little too much. And yet, he doesn’t back away, he keeps looking at Magnus and just takes what Magnus is giving him. Then Magnus leans forward, lips pressing against Alec’s, and Alec’s thankful that he can close his eyes into the sensation.

Alec’s surprised when fingers wrap around his cock, too absorbed in the way Magnus’ cock feels pushing in and out of his ass, the way those lips feel working against his own. Alec’s hips jerk as Magnus sets the same punishing rhythm with his hand as he does with his hips and Alec’s not going to last long with this level of stimulation.

Breaths come in pants, Alec’s chest heaves on short punctuated moans. “C-close,” Alec mumbles over and over, warning Magnus but hoping he doesn’t stop, hoping this never ends. And Magnus doesn’t stop, if anything he’s somehow deeper inside of Alec and it feels amazing. So amazing that Alec feels his balls drawing up, feels the orgasm building and building, and then he’s coming all over Magnus’ hand, his stomach, and the sheets.

The pleasure rolls over him in waves as Magnus keeps moving inside of him. His body twisting simultaneously away and closer when Magnus brushes over his prostate. He’s so lost in it that he doesn’t notice the way Magnus is groaning, the way Magnus’ hips have become less coordinated and then Magnus makes a noise, guttural and deep, and he thrusts his cock hard inside of Alec. “Alexander,” falls from his lips and his hips still, then rut in jerky thrusts as he comes.

They lie, with Magnus softening inside of Alec, for a long while. When they’ve both got their breath back, Magnus withdraws. Alec winces a little at the movement, but he feels so good, relaxed, sated, fucking exhausted. His eyes slide shut and Alec feels Magnus moving, hears the sound of running water from the bathroom but he just turns into the sheets, managing to somehow pull the cover around himself.

He’s already drifting, just on the edge of consciousness when the cover is pulled back, when a damp cloth touches his stomach, his cock, gentle movements. The cover is back, thank goodness and he’s fully asleep when Magnus slides under the covers and wraps an arm around him. He misses the way Magnus snuggles closer and says, “Will I ever learn.”


	6. Chapter 6

Alec wakes slowly, and it takes him a while to realise the warm body pressed against him belongs to Magnus. Magnus. He slept with Magnus Bane. Alec keeps his eyes closed and tries to work out how he feels about that. He can’t regret it. It was… well, it was amazing. But Alec’s not sure what it means, or if it means anything at all.

“Stop thinking,” Magnus says. His voice is rough with sleep and he snuggles closer into Alec’s side, face pressed against Alec’s neck.

“Who says I’m thinking?” Alec replies.

“I do… it’s loud. Just… enjoy this for a few minutes.”

Alec’s not sure how he can be thinking loudly, but Magnus, as usual, is right about one thing. Alec’s never been one for living in the moment. He’s always been focused on the future - whether that’s the next ten years or the next ten minutes. For once, he decides to just lie here with Magnus and enjoy what waking up next to another man feels like.

It doesn’t last long though. Eventually, Alec opens his eyes and he says, “Should probably get up.”

“Hmm.”

Alec laughs at Magnus’ eloquent reply and the way he just presses himself closer to Alec.

“Got a contest to primp for,” Alec teases.

Magnus sighs dramatically and rolls on to his back. He doesn’t say anything or move any further, just keeps his eyes closed and lies there. As Alec sits up, he looks at Magnus, face bare, hair dishevelled, the creases of the pillow indented on one side of his face, and Alec thinks he could be happy waking to this sight every morning. And then he panics. They had sex. _Fantastic_ sex. But that was all it was, right? That’s all Alec came here for, and yet… all he can see is the way Magnus looked at him when they were fucking, the intimacy of the moment, the way it felt like something more. Like feelings.

Alec pulls back the covers and gets out of the bed, scanning the room for his clothes. Focusing on finding them rather than the way his heart feels like it’s beating double time in his chest. Their clothes are littered all around the floor, but Alec manages to find everything eventually. Once he’s dressed, he looks down at his watch. It’s early still, thank god, but he should go shower before they do the rehearsal. And change. He really doesn’t want to have to walk past everyone wearing the same clothes he had on last night.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go,” Alec says, feeling somewhat awkward about how this whole thing works.

Magnus cracks an eye open. He hums in approval before opening his eyes fully and sitting up. Then he draws back the covers, getting out of the bed and crosses to Alec. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye and his hips sway seductively, and Alec seriously considers just sticking around. He’s not really interested in this damn contest anyway and his resolve’s not helped by the fact that Magnus is naked.

Magnus moves close, then leans up to press a kiss to Alec’s lips.

“I’ll see you later,” Magnus says, and suddenly it doesn’t feel awkward anymore.

 

-

 

By some stroke of luck, Alec manages to make it back to his room without running into anyone. He plugs his phone into the charger, the battery having died somewhere between him knocking on Magnus’ door and falling asleep in Magnus’ bed. He’ll give it a few minutes to charge before he switches it on, which works out because he’s dying for a shower.

Of course, just as he’s crossing to the bathroom, there’s a knock on the door.

Alec peers through the eye hole and he can see Jace impatiently waiting on the other side. Anyone else and he could probably ignore them, but Jace will just keep standing there knocking until Alec answers. With a sigh, Alec opens the door.

“Where were you, man?” Jace asks. “I called you like twenty times and I know you don’t sleep through anything so-” Jace stops abruptly when he looks at Alec. He scans Alec from head to toe and then back to Alec’s face. “You got laid.”

“What?” Alec pulls at the collar of his shirt. There’s no way Jace knows that. There’s no way he can.

“Dude… I’m not an idiot. You were wearing that shirt yesterday, there’s a hickey peeking out of it and you’ve got this dopey look on your face.”

So this is the moment Jace decides to be perceptive? Fucking wonderful… and he doesn’t have any kind of look on his face, dopey or otherwise.

“Can we just…” Alec sighs. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he can’t deny it happened either. “What did you want?”

Jace narrows his eyes but he doesn’t push the issue. “Herondale’s here,” Jace explains. “She wants to see us all.”

Perfect. It doesn’t look like Alec’s getting that shower or change of clothes. He does, however, button his shirt to the top as the two of them leave the room and grab his gun on the way.

 

-

 

“We got him,” Herondale says when the whole team has arrived. They all stare dumbly back at her. “Valentine Morgenstern… the sole person responsible for The Circle.”

Alec looks at Herondale and tries to process her words. She’s still talking, going over the logistics of the arrest and the way they came to this conclusion, but Alec just can’t hear any of that right now. They got him. It’s over? It doesn’t feel like it though. The rest of the attacks have escalated and been about bringing harm to everyday people. The more Alec thinks about this contest being the next target, the more he’s beginning to realise that it doesn’t fit the previous pattern.

“DNA said it was a woman,” Alec whispers. Then a little louder, trying to be heard over the congratulations and relief filling the room.

Alec pushes forward to the assistant director. She raises an eyebrow when he stops in front of her.

“I don’t think this is him,” Alec says.

“We’ve got him dead to rights for the arson and poisoning.”

“I’m not disputing that, but I don’t think _this_ is him.”

“Then who is it?”

Alec hesitates. “It could be a copycat?”

Herondale shakes her head.

“The DNA on the envelope was a woman’s,” Alec argues.

“That means nothing. Could’ve been planted there to throw us off. It probably was. Fairchild,” Herondale addresses, clearly dismissing Alec. “Get this all packed up.”

Alec should back off, should follow his orders and go pack his things. But his gut is telling him there’s still a threat here and can he live with himself if he willingly walks away from this. So Alec finds the courage to say, “Ma’am, with all due respect, I think there’s still a valid threat here.”

“With all due respect… I don’t,” Herondale retorts, but she’s still not looking at Alec. “Your assignment is over, Lightwood. That makes you back on desk duty.”

“Ma’am-”

“I don’t want to hear it. All agents are off this case.”

_Agents_ are off this case. Alec takes a deep breath, not sure he can say his next words. He holds his voice steady, not wanting to give away how anxious and unsure he’s feeling. “And if I’m not an agent?”

There’s a flash of surprise on Herondale’s face, but she covers it quickly. “As a private citizen, you can do what you want. But… I’ll need your badge and gun.”

Alec knows he’s giving Herondale exactly what she wants. His hands feel shaky as Alec reaches for his badge and gun. He wills them to be steady as he presses them into Herondale’s outstretched hand and he looks at them for a few minutes, at the two items that he thought defined him. But Alec can’t be defined by them if it means going against everything he believes in. If it means turning his back on doing the right thing. He doesn’t know if he’s making the right choice here, but it’s the only choice he can make. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t trust himself to. He takes one final look at Herondale and for the first time, Alec thinks there might be just a hint of respect there.

Alec turns on his heel and holds his head high as he walks out of the room.

“Alec,” Jace calls out, but Alec doesn’t slow.

Fingers grip his arm, stopping him and turning him and Jace is right there.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s right. Something feels off about all of this, Jace. I still think these guys are in danger.” Alec’s voice is imploring, willing Jace to see the same thing Alec does. He just needs one person in his corner and if it’s Jace then Herondale will definitely listen to them.

But any hope is dashed when Jace says, “We’ve got orders.”

Alec scoffs. “Like that’s ever stopped you before?”

Alec doesn’t wait for an answer; he pulls his arm from Jace’s grip and storms back to his room.

 

-

 

Alec feels somewhat more human after showering and changing into clean clothes. There’s this anxious feeling in his stomach though and Alec’s not sure if it’s the dread of what he’s just done or the thought that something is going to happen and Alec’s not sure he can stop it. Most of his anger has dissipated and what’s left is mainly for Jace’s reaction.

Jace usually has no problem going against orders, and Alec’s never asked this of him. But what stings the most is that Jace didn’t trust him enough to back him up. They’re supposed to be partners. Alec thinks of Jace as a brother and he thought they had each other’s backs. No matter what.

But Alec can’t think about that. He’s got people to protect and a threat to find and he’s going to need Magnus’ help more than ever. He realises he doesn’t have a top five spot anymore; he’s going to have to make it there by himself. That’s a terrifying thought. Alec grabs his room key and walks quickly to Magnus’.

Alec knocks and smiles brightly when Magnus swings the door open, but the smile isn’t returned, and worry curls in Alec’s gut. Magnus steps back into the room and gestures Alec inside. He stops in his tracks when he notices the suitcase on the bed, and the fact that it’s almost full.

“You’re leaving?” Alec asks, and he knows he sounds accusatory.

“Turns out the FBI doesn’t want to employ a pageant consultant when they’re no longer interested in the pageant. Who knew?”

Magnus’ tone is sarcastic, and maybe Alec deserves that, but he can’t handle the way Magnus just keeps packing. Magnus moves to and from the wardrobe, folding clothes delicately. And Alec doesn’t understand why watching this is making him feel sick.

“Can’t you stay just for the day? It’s the finals, Magnus,” Alec pleads.

Magnus stills and turns to Alec. “I’m afraid that… Herondale woman was _incredibly_ insistent.”

Oh. So this is it then. Alec stares at the case and wonders if Magnus was even going to tell him.

“Alexander,” Magnus says, and there are fingers against Alec’s chin lifting his gaze to look at Magnus. “You don’t need me to hold your hand through this. Just…” Magnus pauses as if he’s thinking about his next words, and when he speaks again Alec feels like Magnus wanted to say something else. “Just remember the things I taught you. Chin up, eye contact and confidence… You’ll do great.”

The words, _I can’t do this by myself,_ are on the tip of Alec’s tongue, but he doesn’t say them. He can’t say them. Magnus starts packing again and Alec wonders how a day that started so perfectly could devolve into  _this_.

Alec turns to leave, but on the threshold, he looks back at Magnus. “Thank you,” he says. “For everything.”

Magnus’ eyes find Alec’s and there’s something there that Alec can’t decipher. “It was entirely my pleasure, Alexander.”

Alec smiles, soft and a little sad. He takes one final look at Magnus and leaves.

 

-

 

The rehearsal is a nightmare. Alec’s too focused on everything that’s going on, his mind working overtime to try to work out where this threat is coming from that he keeps losing where they’re up to, or walking the wrong way off the stage. Without Magnus he feels like a fraud… and that’s because he is one. What is he doing here? How did he think he could ever fit in here?

Alec looks at himself in the mirror. An hour until this live show begins. He doesn’t know how to make the green in his hazel eyes stand out like Magnus does. He doesn’t know which of these tubes to use to make his lips inviting. Then his eyes catch on his collarbone and the reminder of his night with Magnus. His fingers scramble through the products searching for something to cover up the hickey; he can’t walk out in those swimming trunks with it showing.

“You okay, Artie?” Simon asks as he sits down next to Alec.

Alec holds up something that looks like powder. “This will cover this up, right?” Alec says, voice anxious as he points to his collarbone.

Simon reaches for the container and shakes his head. “Artie, this is blusher.”

Blusher is for cheeks, Alec thinks. At least, logically, that’s what makes sense. Alec holds up a different tube.

“That’s a primer,” Simon says with an indulgent smile.

“Fuck.”

Simon moves closer and sifts through the products. “Here.” He holds up a powder that looks exactly like all the other powders. Alec’s about to take it from him, but Simon just reaches for a brush and starts applying it to his collarbone. Alec’s grateful that Simon doesn’t ask who Alec got this from.

“Thanks,” Alec says in relief when the mark is covered up.

“Where’s Magnus?”

“Um… he had to leave.”

“You want a hand with the makeup?”

Alec smiles and nods, thankful that Simon doesn’t enquire any further and that he’s offering to help. Simon is a lifesaver.

“Hey, Charlie,” Simon calls out. “Come sort Artie’s hair while I do his makeup.”

Charlie doesn’t protest, just walks right over and smiles at Alec in the mirror. Alec can’t believe he thought these people didn’t have substance. That this was a mockery of what he dealt with on a daily basis. But they’re kind, and they care, and they’re clever. Alec’s rarely wrong about things, but he was wrong about this. Wrong about them. And now he’s going to do everything he can to keep them safe.

 

-

 

The lights are so bright as Alec stands on the stage with the rest of the contestants. He tries not to squint, and hopes his smile doesn’t look like a grimace. Alec’s not there though, his mind is racing through possible suspects, constantly searching for where the threat is going to come from. The contestants were cleared as far as Alec can remember, that was Jace’s job and Alec’s not asking that dick for anything right now.

“Good evening and welcome to the final of Mr United States 2018,” Camille says as she walks across the stage. “Over the past two days contestants from each state have been competing to make it into the top ten.” Camille pauses for dramatic effect and Alec holds himself back from rolling his eyes at her. He’s sure Mr United States doesn’t roll their eyes. Fuck. That’s what Magnus would have said.

“The judges’ scores have been tallied, and I have here the names of the top ten finalists… Are you ready to find out who they are?”

Alec blocks Camille out and tries to focus on who has motive to want to blow this thing up. The letter had a woman’s DNA. That’s what Alec keeps coming back to. So… a woman. His eyes slide over to Camille. She wouldn’t though. Would she?

“The first contestant in the top ten is… Mr Illinois.”

This is Camille’s show. Sure, Isabelle said she’s been having some money problems when they’d talked that night Alec nearly quit. And fuck, why didn’t Jace look into that already? But money problems, or potential embezzlement doesn’t mean that she would blow up the show.

“Mr Hawaii,” Camille announces.

Unless she wanted the money from the insurance. Though, Alec’s not sure if a firm would payout for terrorist damages. Wait, there’s separate insurance for that. Alec considers all the angles of this possibility while more names are called out and the contestants step forward. It seems so obvious now, that Alec’s not sure how he didn’t see it sooner.

“Artie,” someone next to him hisses and Alec realises everyone is looking at him. He blinks, unsure what’s going on. “She called you.” And Alec’s pushed forward to step into the line of top ten finalists. He feels sick. Why does he feel sick? He actually made the top ten by himself. He… he can’t believe it.

“And our last finalist is… Mr Rhode Island.”

Despite the excitement that Alec can see in Simon, Simon walks demurely to stand next to him. Alec offers Simon a grin and he gets one back in return. Holy fuck. He made the top ten!

 

-

 

“Congrats, Artie!” Simon exclaims as he passes Alec backstage. “We’re in the top ten. Can you believe it?”

Alec is already in his archery gear, getting ready for the next item, but he still shakes his head, because he can’t. Somehow - and the reasons are completely unbeknownst to him - he managed to make it through the preliminary rounds alone.

Alec notices the guitar in Simon’s hand. “Next up?” he asks.

“Yeah, less than three minutes… God, I’m nervous.”

Alec’s about to wish Simon luck and send him on his way, but instead he asks Simon a question. Something reminiscent of what Simon said to him last night. “Would you rather win doing something you don’t enjoy, or lose being true to yourself?”

Simon looks at him in confusion, but after a few seconds says, “Lose, I guess.”

That’s the answer Alec was hoping for. “Then why aren’t you about to step onto that stage to sing an original song… or at least something _you_ chose?”

Alec doesn’t know what the songs Simon’s written are like. Oh shit, he hopes they’re not crap. But if this is Simon’s dream, shouldn’t he get the chance to be himself on that stage, to be fully accepted for who  _he_ is.

“Just something to think about,” Alec says with a smile and hands Simon off to the stage worker who’s fretting about Simon being ready for his cue.

Simon looks a little dazed as he walks off, and Alec hopes he hasn’t just fucked this whole thing up for him. Though Alec should be getting ready, he stands in the wings and waits for Simon’s act.

“That’s a good thing you just did,” says a voice behind Alec. A voice that sounds a hell of a lot like Magnus’.

Alec turns slowly, almost fearful of what he’s going to find. That maybe he just imagined Magnus’ voice and he’s going to be looking at an empty space. But there in front of him, gorgeous as ever, stands Magnus Bane.

“You’re here… you… you came back,” Alec almost whispers, and he wants to cross to Magnus, but he just stands frozen to the spot. He thought he’d never see Magnus again. Alec’s vaguely aware of music in the background, something new, something different, and Alec - strangely - feels a bit proud of Simon.

“What? No big welcome for _me_?” Jace’s voice interrupts Alec’s thoughts. He’s standing next to Magnus but Alec somehow managed to overlook that. Alec looks now though, and he glares.

Jace holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, okay. Magnus convinced me you were right.”

Magnus did? Alec’s eyes flit back to Magnus’ face and there’s a shy sort of smile on his lips. Alec’s never thought of Magnus as adorable, but he does now.

“So, you believe me?” Alec asks Jace.

“Yeah. Something feels off about this case in connection with all the attacks The Circle carried out. Plus, you’re usually right.”

Alec nods his thanks. They don’t talk about their feelings, not unless there’s copious amounts of alcohol involved. It’s just the way they are. But this is as close as they’ll get sober.

Alec looks at Magnus, not sure if he should voice his idea that Camille might be involved. But this is about saving lives. That means there might be a few uncomfortable conversations.

“Did you look into Camille?” Alec asks Jace, but he keeps an eye on Magnus’ reaction. Magnus raises an eyebrow slightly in surprise but isn’t saying she’s incapable of this.

“I did. It looks like there are some money issues. She recently fired her accountant and they haven’t filed their accounts yet.”

It suddenly feels like it’s all coming together, but there’s something about it that seems too easy.

“Lab came back about the DNA though,” Jace continues. “Sample was contaminated, and they don’t have enough for a second test… so we might not be looking at a woman.”

What? That was one large part of Alec’s reasoning for thinking this wasn’t over. He still doesn’t think it is, but this changes things. He’s been looking at only women when he should have been looking at everyone.

“Two minutes,” one of the stage guys calls to Alec, cutting through his thoughts.

Alec picks up his bow, and Magnus is suddenly right there in front of him, fastening the quiver around him. Fuck, Magnus smells good. _Focus, Alec._

“Where’s the target?” Alec asks when he manages to clear his brain of the haze of having Magnus so close.

Those around Alec just shrug and the stage guy is gesturing for him to come over quickly. Alec starts to panic. He has to make the top five. He  _has_ to. But what’s he going to shoot arrows at if he has no target? He takes a deep breath. He’s an FBI agent for goodness sake, he’s trained for high-pressure situations. And then an idea comes to him.

Alec turns to Jace with a wicked grin and says, “I’m gonna need a human target.”

And Alec takes great delight in the way Jace blanches.

“Um…” Jace says dumbly and looks at Magnus, but Magnus doesn’t give him any help.

“What? Don’t you trust me?” Alec asks, grabbing Jace’s arm and drawing him over to the side of the stage.

“I do… it’s just...”

Alec laughs. “I promise not to kill you on live television.”

Jace gulps and nods and Alec thinks that for once, something about this pageant this actually going to be fun.

 

-

 

Alec doesn’t have time to think or discuss anything properly as they move from talent to swimwear. His first chance to even breathe is when he starts to change into the evening wear for the interview. The interview that only the top five get to take part in. Why does Alec feel a giddy kind of anticipation about the whole thing?

“Not that one,” Magnus says, pulling the jacket Alec had worn in the preliminaries from Alec’s grasp.

Magnus sets it back on the rail and picks up another. It’s exquisite. That’s all Alec can think. Across the shoulders and the top of the torso is a light blue, which isn’t anything that unordinary, but as Alec’s eyes move down he sees that the jacket is a canvas, almost. It looks as if the jacket is painted, trees blending with the blue of the sky flawlessly, and down further still, the trim is a golden bronze of earth.

“That looks like a piece of art,” Alec says.

Magnus smiles at him. “One piece of art for another then.”

Alec just stares. He really means for Alec to wear this? And did he just call Alec art?

“That was too much, right?” Magnus asks and he steps closer.

Alec shakes his head. Magnus holds the jacket up for Alec to put on, and Alec turns so Magnus can pull it up his arms and settle it on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay, really,” Alec reassures as he turns back to Magnus. Magnus came back. Alec’s still trying to process that.

He steps into Magnus’ space, and he just kisses Magnus and the brilliant thing is that Magnus lets him.

When they break apart, they’re both sporting the widest grins. Magnus lifts a hand and brushes his fingers over Alec’s lips, wiping away the smudged lip balm. Alec tries to find the words to say that he shouldn’t have let Magnus leave without talking about last night. That he wants to maybe do that again. Wants to maybe date Magnus. But then Simon grabs Alec’s arm. “Come on, Artie. We’re on stage,” Simon implores, and pulls Alec away before he can say anything.

 

-

 

The ten contestants stand in the middle of the stage, a spotlight shining down on each of them. Alec watches as Camille steps onto the stage wearing the second dress of the evening. This one is split provocatively to mid-thigh. Alec can’t hear anything over the pounding of blood in his ear as his heart rate quickens.

“The results are in,” Camille announces, holding an envelope in the air. She takes her sweet time opening it, but eventually, she pulls out the card. “Our top five contestants are…”

Dramatic music begins to play and Alec would normally roll his eyes at this, but there’s a tension building inside of him as he waits.

“Mr Illinois.”

The crowd cheer and applaud as Charlie steps forward.

“Mr Nebraska.”

Alec smooths his jacket down.

“Mr New Jersey.”

Wait… that’s him. That’s Alec. _Holy shit!_ He made it to the top five. He made it to the top five? Alec steps forward and turns to give Simon an encouraging smile.

“Mr Rhode Island.”

Simon’s face splits into the widest grin Alec’s ever seen, and he bounds forward to stand next to Alec. Simon reaches for Alec’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

“And our final contestant is... Mr Connecticut.”

The spotlights on the remaining contestants fade out until only the five of them and Camille are lit up.

“There we have it… our top five.”

 

-

 

Alec doesn’t get a chance to receive any congratulations. Jace grabs him and pulls him to the side. Jace is still on the phone, but there’s this frown on his face that makes Alec worry.

“Where’s Sebastian?” Jace asks as he hangs up.

“I’m not sure.” Alec looks around the backstage area for the contestants but Sebastian is nowhere to be found.

Magnus walks over to them and Alec asks, “Have you seen Sebastian?”

“Didn’t make top five, did he?” Magnus says and he adjusts the lapels of Alec’s jacket. “Probably off sulking somewhere.”

Alec turns back to Jace. “No clue. Why?”

“He’s not just Sebastian Verlac.”

Well, that clears it all up, Alec thinks. And Alec waves a hand for Jace to continue.

“He was born Jonathan Morgenstern. Mother, Lilith Talto. Father… Valentine Morgenstern.”

Shit.

“Morgenstern?”

Jace nods his head. “Exactly.”

“Well… fuck,” Alec sighs. “It is a copycat alright. Like father, like son?”

Alec’s still processing this, and his eyes scan the room again in search of Sebastian.

“Lilith Talto?” Magnus asks.

Alec looks at Magnus. “You know her?”

“Lilith was a Miss United States contestant… Camille cost Lilith the crown the year she won. Lilith came down with a severe case of food poisoning on the final day… It always seemed a little too much of a coincidence to me - and to Lilith. She accused Camille and by extension me, but there wasn’t any proof and that sent her on a downward spiral. Overdosed I think.”

“So, what is this?” Alec thinks out loud. “Emulating his father, while avenging his mother? How did we miss this?”

Jace interrupts, “Closed adoption. Names only just came through… and before Valentine’s arrest it still would have been pretty meaningless.”

Alec should have pulled that thread harder. He knew there was something about Sebastian, but he just couldn’t work out what. He can remember the way Sebastian had criticised both Camille and Magnus. He hadn’t thought that much about it at the time, putting it down to Sebastian just being overly opinionated, but now, Alec can see that maybe it was a little more personal than that.

“You’re next,” Magnus says and Alec looks at him blankly. “Interviews. They’re just wrapping this one up.”

Alec turns to Jace while walking backwards towards the stage. “Okay, find Sebastian. He could have put the bomb anywhere.” He gives Jace a pointed look, eyes shifting to Magnus and Jace nods. Jace is thinking the same as Alec, that Magnus is a potential target.

 

-

 

Alec rubs the thumb of one hand over the palm of the other in a nervous gesture as the lights shine down on him. Camille smiles sweetly at him, but Alec can see through the charade. He knows what she thinks of him.

“So, _Artie_. Do you think male beauty pageants are taken seriously by society?” Camille asks.

Well, isn’t that a fucking dirty rotten trick.

Alec remembers Magnus’ words. He has to offer up a part of himself.

“Camille,” Alec says, and he flashes her a smile as fake as her own had been. Though, his, very few would see through. “I have to admit that _I_ didn’t take this seriously. I thought it was some kind of joke, that the men entering this competition were only feeding into a stereotype that society has set for us… but, that’s just not the case. These men are clever. Wicked clever. Not the airheads people tar beauty pageant contestants with. I mean, Charlie’s studying to be a doctor.

“And they’re fierce and loyal and kind and they want to do good in the world. And this contest… I know now how important it is for helping each of us find ourselves. Be it the confidence to be ourselves, to make our own choices, or simply say ‘this is who I am’.

“These men, some of which I’m honoured to now call friends, are the kind of examples we want for the next generation. Men that value self-expression, that are open with their feelings and respect all people.”

Camille looks a little taken aback by Alec’s answer, and her smile falters. Alec’s own grin is far more genuine.

“Thank you… Al- Arthur,” Camille says. She turns back to the audience. “A round of applause for Mr New Jersey.”

Alec stands and waves and makes his way off stage. He grabs Jace as soon as he’s free of the cameras.

“That was a damn fine answer,” Magnus says, and Alec thinks there’s a little pride in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Alec replies and while Magnus’ reaction to his interview makes a warmth spread through his chest, Alec doesn’t have time to bask in it. He turns back to Jace. “Any sign of Sebastian?”

Jace shakes his head. “No luck yet.”

“Okay, we have to keep looking.”

 

-

 

The rest of the interviews pass quickly - too quickly - and Alec finds himself back on the stage still not having located Sebastian. He feels tense and sick and he knows something is going to happen soon. There’s a sense of foreboding. If only he could find Sebastian he could stop all this.

The five finalists stand with their hands clasped together.

“Good luck,” Charlie says to the group, and while they all express similar sentiment Alec can’t focus on it.

Camille steps onto the stage in her third outfit of the night, and this one is ridiculously ostentatious. She looks like she’s going to a ball or something. And as Alec watches Camille walk towards them, he spots Sebastian in the wings. He’s got a crown in his hand and he’s handing it to last year’s winner and Alec’s blood goes cold.

The crown is the bomb.

He twists to the look at the other side of the stage, to where Magnus and Jace are. It takes a few minutes to catch the attention of one of them. And it’s Magnus. Alec jerks his head to the other side of the stage where Sebastian is and tries to mime a crown, but Magnus just looks at him in confusion.

Alec’s frustrated with the situation but he tries to consider how Sebastian is going to play it. When Camille takes the crown… that’s when he’ll strike. All of this centres around Sebastian’s mother and father. The bomb is probably to prove something to his father and the target, well, the target is getting even for his mother. He probably blames Camille for the fact that Lilith is gone.

“Now we’re ready to announce our top five places,” Camille says. “In fifth place we have… Mr Nebraska.”

Alec’s still gesturing to Magnus, though Jace is looking at him too. They’re both puzzled and Alec wants to scream.

It’s only when Camille says, “And here we have our top two,” that Alec realises  _he’s_ in the top two. He looks at Simon standing next to him, and if he wasn’t so worried about that fucking crown, he’d be amazed that he made it this far.

“Don’t take the crown from, Camille,” Alec says to Simon.

Simon frowns at him.

“So… Mr United States 2018 goes to… Mr Rhode Island.”

The crowd erupts into raucous cheers, and Mr United States 2017 walks out onto the stage carrying the crown. Alec knows he’s supposed to back away now, supposed to graciously bow out, but Camille is reaching for the crown and Alec doesn’t know if Magnus and Jace stopped Sebastian. Fuck… he’s really going to have to save Camille. Yes, he is. Because Alec doesn’t play God with people’s lives.

Alec moves quickly, throwing himself forward and grabbing the crown.

“What are you-” Camille shrieks. And the crowd begins to murmur.

Camille grabs the crown in his hand and Alec wrestles it from her grasp sending her flying. He turns and Simons’s standing right there.

“Artie?” Simon says, and Alec can see his betrayal on Simon’s face. In the way his brow furrows. Simon grabs for the crown and though Alec moves quickly, it’s not quick enough.

“Let go,” Alec says.

“But it’s _mine_.”

Yes, it might be Simon’s, but does he really want it if it’s going to blow his head off? Alec’s taller and stronger than Simon, and he’s had extensive FBI training. He’s not above an elbow to the ribs though, or a punch to the gut. The combination of all that and Simon is down. Simon’s fingers are still clutched to the crown though.

Security are making their way onto the stage and Alec can see Jace in the wings, fighting with Sebastian. Oh, thank fuck. He’s got a little time, but if Sebastian gets the drop on Jace then the bomb could go off any second.

Some of the other contestants are starting to get involved, and the place is descending into chaos. And then Alec sees Magnus run onto the stage and he’s got a bomb blanket. Jace must’ve brought it with them, and that’s actually a brilliant idea.

Alec prises the crown from Simon’s grasp and tries to get to Magnus.

“It’s a bomb,” Alec calls out. “Get back!”

But no one seems to believe him. He fights his way to Magnus. Some people are going to have black eyes and incredible headaches tomorrow. And then Magnus is right there. Alec grabs the blanket and the crown and looks at security.

“It’s a bomb,” he says again as he covers the crown. “Get people back.”

They hesitate, but when they see Alec isn’t trying to wear the crown, some of them realise he might actually be telling the truth. Alec moves to the back of the stage as security try to keep everyone back.

“Get back,” Alec urges Magnus as he undoes the blanket. He takes the safety circle from the inside of it and wraps it around the crown as quickly as possible. Then he places the blanket over the top. Only when it’s done does Alec turn to look behind him, and Magnus is still right there. He grips Magnus’ arm and draws him away and he hears it. The explosion.

They drop to the floor as it goes off. There’s smoke and the audience is screaming, but when Alec eventually looks around everyone’s relatively intact. There’s probably some damage to the stage, but Alec will take that. He reaches for Magnus’ hand and reassures himself that Magnus is okay. Then his eyes look to the wings. Jace has Sebastian on his stomach, hands wrenched behind his back, and Alec just lays back on the cool stage floor in exhaustion.

It’s over.

 

-

 

Alec stands outside on the steps of the building and watches Sebastian being taken away. He imagines what it must be like to look for your parents, maybe for years, and then when you find them, one’s a mass murderer and one’s dead from an overdose.

Alec knows when they look into Sebastian’s past they’re going to find that he was a sweet kid, probably one that spent his whole life trying to feel like he belonged. He probably had great adoptive parents that love him. Alec feels for them. For what they’ll go through now, and even though the Bureau will keep it out of the press as much as possible, Alec knows it’ll leak eventually.

Magnus comes to stand next to him and Alec watches Jace talking to one of the officers.

“Magnus…” Alec takes a deep breath and just goes for it. “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Now, Alexander?” Magnus says, and Alec didn’t mean right now.

“No… just, I had fun last night… and I’d like to see you again. Take you out somewhere, get to know you better, ma-” Alec stops mid-sentence when Magnus presses a finger to his lips.

“I was joking, Alec… and, I’d love to go to dinner, to see you again, to get to know you better.”

“Yeah?” Alec asks stupidly with the goofiest grin on his face.

“Yes,” Magnus replies and leans forward to kiss Alec.

Magnus’ lips are soft like Alec remembers and though he doesn’t know what the future has in store for them, he’s excited to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Check out the rest of the fics that were written for the [Shadowhunters Hiatus Big Bang](https://shhiatusbang.tumblr.com/).


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